A Man of a Monster
by Asori
Summary: Lurking in the shadows, awaiting the opportunity to overwhelm and overcome. A vicious beast, a ruthless carnivore; it's all in the programming. When given the chance to break loose and take over for good, can Spike be more than a monster?
1. Chapter 1

**Long Author's Note - nice-to-know information - amazing (if I do say so myself) story below.**

 **You may want to know what you're getting yourself into for this story, so I recommend reading the Author's Note.**

 **Anyways...**

 **AN: Heya everyone, Asori here! This is it - the big one! AHHHH! I can't contain my joy at finally being able to share this with y'all :DDD A big thank you thank you THANK YOU to the wonderful LabRatsFan07 for the story suggestion almost a year ago in a review for my first _Lab Rats_ FanFiction story _Spiked Out_ \- this story here would not exist without you! Also, I can't forget to give a shout out to the amazing vampiregal007 for being a messenger and a loyal Spike fan! And, of course, Dirtkid123, I was thinking of you the entire time I was writing this story - I hope it lives up to your awesome excitement! Thank you, you three and everyone else who left such heart-warming comments concerning the Spike story, for in effect, poking me to get this story done!**

 **I would also like to give a special thank you to my personal proofreader/test-subject (my 'lab rat' xP ) who we will call Goose. Goose put up with my mindless, obsessive out-loud thought-processing and read my work because I said so. Goose actually really enjoys this and hopes that you all will enjoy it too!**

 **Writing this has been a very long journey, and I was honestly terrified to take it up at first. But as I got into it, I began to love the idea more and more, and writing it has been the most fun and satisfying I've experienced yet. And all along the way I have wanted to post it as I wrote it, but I also wanted (and still want) to give you the best possible version of this story, so here it is now, _almost_ completely finished and I'm posting it anyways (explained on my profile).**

 **About this story : right off the bat I want to say that while there is action throughout the story, it is not all that plot-heavy, but focuses on BIG TIME character evaluation and development (basically a psychological novel). Our main character may possibly become Out Of Character as the story progresses, but that is simply my interpretation of him and a possible route of growth for him. In my defense, there isn't much to go off of from the TV series anyways :S I hope you like the direction that I take this!**

 **Anyways, this story is rated T because of how deep the content is (my goal is to make you think!), maybe a few references, a cuss word, and mild-moderate violence. I mean, it's Spike - when writing a concept like this, you can't bypass the intensity even when it's a kids show. Don't worry, nothin' ya can't handle ;) The story has a darkness about it as you get into it, but there are plenty of light-hearted moments as well ( _Lab Rats_ is a comedy, and I prefer to keep my work fairly true to the show). You will see a substantial number of canon characters as well as a host of my own Original Characters (also as requested by LabRatsFan07). This story is set sometime in the Second Season, it could fall in more genre categories than listed in the description (and it becomes much less centered around humor than my other stories just before the first intermission - you will know what I'm talking about when we arrive), and the story is almost completely pre-written, so I will follow a steady posting schedule of an update every couple days save for intermissions.**

 **The story is going to take you through lots of ups and downs - sometimes you will experience the top of the mountain with the characters, other times you will be trapped in valleys of hopelessness. You will laugh, you will cry. You will experience anger, joy, pride, sorrow, _empathy_. You will love the characters, and you will hate them. If you are faint of heart, this story will test your limits. It's intensity ebbs and grows throughout the story as you experience both the best of life and some of its more painful tragedies. You can't help being drawn in, and I hope that all of you make it through this journey to the end. We have a long road ahead of us, and I can promise you that it's one that you will never forget.**

 **A little side-note: this _may_ be my last story on FanFiction, and it's not because the show ended. See my profile for more details.**

 **This is pretty much the conclusion of this very long Author's Note, and I promise that from here on out I will keep them to a minimum. So, without further ado, I give you _A Man of a Monster._ Enjoy!**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own _Lab Rats_ or the canon characters, just the plot and my OCs.**

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 _Lady-Locks. Flashglue. Bumsweat. Chasey. Loser. Wimp. Not-Dooley. Squatmug. Nerd. Micro-Man. Weak. Killjoy. Dolly. Eensie-Weensie-Little-Woman. Dork. Chussle. Tiny. Buzzkill. Lady-Golfer. Geek. Bozo. Shortstack._ The demeaning labels raced through Chase's mind within a split second, causing hurt, frustration, and anger to well up within him.

With the names came a torrent of accompanying memories. Memories of Adam's harsh words and rough play, memories of Trent pushing him around and humiliating him, memories of Bree abandoning him, memories of his seeming invisibility to Mr. Davenport, memories of the looks of disgust and disapproval from his peers…. Each memory in this fragile time for Chase was like a hammer blow, and he knew that it would not take much more to break him.

He stared up at the school bully, Trent, who had him pinned against the lockers. _Ladyface._ The new nickname reverberated through his being, causing more pain than being shoved against cold, unyielding metal. And not only was the metal cold and unyielding, but so were the countless teens that surrounded them, avidly watching the scene that had become their entertainment.

Trent's smirk of sick joy was reflected on the faces of the bystanders, cruel laughter contaminating the very air. And among the loudest of those laughing were Adam and Bree, Chase's older siblings. Their heartless mirth made him choke, his mouth coated with bile. They were supposed to look out for him – they were supposed to be his _friends_.

The word _betrayed_ was thus added to the long list of emotions that described the brewing storm that twisted his stomach into a knot so tight that he felt ill. He attempted to swallow his queasiness, blinking back the hot stinging of tears that threatened to escape him. _Breathe,_ he commanded himself over the swarm of thoughts, memories, and calculations that overwhelmed him.

Chase forced his lungs to relax enough to take in needed oxygen, but he was unable to control a gasp of emotional pain from slipping out, a testament to his roiling inner turmoil. Trent's evil grin grew fiercer, and he taunted Chase mockingly by saying loudly "Aw, is the little twerp going to cry?" Add _Twerp_ to the list of nasty names. Trent barked with laughter as a wolf might be expected to, and like the animal that is often vicious in nature, he did not intend to merely wound Chase; he was going to go for the kill.

"Maybe your dolly will make you feel better – oh, right, you don't need a doll because you _are_ one," Trent sneered, and more laughter pounded the youngest bionic's super-sensitive ears, further insults being hurled at him as if Trent's weren't damaging enough. Like their leader, the other teens were also as wolves, and Chase was caught in the kill ring of the pack.

Trent nodded in approval of the contributions of the others before bringing his face terrifyingly close to that of his victim's. In an awfully quiet voice that contained all of the contempt he had for the younger boy, Trent said "No one wants you around. You mean _nothing._ You're _worthless._ "

Time slowed, and with the pronunciation of the last word, it was as if a chisel had been driven into Chase; in that moment he shattered like glass. The metaphysical form of the bionic had exploded to billions of jagged shards – he was broken.

 _Give up. Give in. I can fix you. I can fix everything,_ a familiar thought process whispered tantalizingly.

 _No, I will not activate Spike,_ Chase resisted. _He will only hurt people._

 _These are people who hurt you – when I'm done, you will never have to fear again._

 _Because they will fear_ me.

 _Is that so bad?_

Chase could defy his temptation no more. _No, that would not be bad at all,_ he relented in his traumatized state, deliberately activating the commando app. _I will never be picked on again._

What had felt like eons to the younger boy had in actuality been merely moments. Trent had been basking in his apparent dominance, but within seconds he sensed the danger that he now faced. Looking back to his victim, Trent was both amazed and horrified to see the quivering little snot seem to completely transform. Gone was the meek boy who let others walk all over him; here was a boy who blazed with a fiery rage, and Trent knew immediately that he was about to be burned.

Before Trent could make an escape from his impending doom, Spike lashed out and grabbed the front of the older boy's shirt, pushing off the wall and using his momentum to spin on his heel. When they had turned one-hundred-and-eighty degrees, Spike slammed Trent up against the lockers, letting the football player's feet dangle off the ground. Height was of no matter now.

"Who's the weakling now, huh?" Spike snarled menacingly in his deep, gravelly voice. When he didn't receive an immediate answer, he shouted "Answer me, scumbag!"

The hallway had gone silent by now, everyone holding their breath as they waited to see what would happen next. The only movements among the bystanders were the head-turns of Adam and Bree, who looked to each other worriedly.

Trent gulped, unable to hold the commando app's icy gaze for very long. The bully remained silent, and the room seemed to freeze in anticipation.

"Answer me," Spike repeated in a threatening rumble, gripping the quarterback in an even harder throttlehold.

"I get it, I get it; please just put me down," Trent pleaded feebly.

"Wrong answer," Spike spat, drawing his fist back before swinging at Trent with all the force he could muster. Trent yelped, ducking away from Spike's attack just in time. He scrambled out of the app's weakened grip, the crowd of students quickly stepping back and away from the two belligerents.

Spike advanced towards Trent, clenching his fists into rock-hard weapons. With a roar, he took another swing at the older boy, following closely with his other fist. Trent dodged both, falling backwards as Spike tried to knee him in the gut.

"A little help here!" Trent cried before another of his small screams followed, scrambling to his feet to avoid a kick from the younger boy. Spike took advantage of Trent's scattered attention, catching hold of the bully and socking him in the stomach with unparalleled force.

"Ohhhh," Trent moaned, sinking a little before slipping out of Spike's grasp and facing his enemy with a queasy expression.

"Fight back!" Spike shouted. With that, he continued his advance. His movements were a flurry of hits, almost too fast to track. Every impact made on Trent was marked by more yelps from the football player; his attempts at trying to shield himself were futile.

"What in the blazes is going on here?" Principal Perry demanded, shoving her way through the wall of teens and into the crude circle. Both an obviously relieved Trent and a profusely annoyed Spike froze, turning to face the despicable woman before them.

"He's trying to kill me," Trent whimpered shamelessly.

"He would be lucky if I only wanted to kill him," Spike growled, glowering at anyone who stared at him too long.

"You've got nerve to be beating up my football players," Perry snapped at the app, walking right up to him. "Looks like you've got yourself detention, squatmug."

"Yeah, you've got detention!" Trent added quickly in victory before Spike could retort. "Ha! That's what happens when y-"

Without warning Spike struck at the older boy, the crunch of the breaking of Trent's nose making many of the watching students gasp. Perry reacted instantly, grabbing Spike before he could continue beating up the howling quarterback. Spike fought her, struggling to break free, but the principal twisted the app's arms behind his back, her iron grip forcing him to his knees.

"How long is it going to take for you to learn that you can't beat me?" Perry asked rhetorically in a strained voice, her face red from the effort of restraining Spike. The app maintained his simmering silence, giving the injured bully his most dreadful death glare. He wanted not only to crush Trent's nose, but to crush every part of him like one might crush a detestable bug. He wished with a passion to make the older boy suffer the worst pain known to mankind.

"You, help Trent get up so he can come to my office," Perry ordered the unfortunate kid who had mistakenly made eye contact with her. With a combination of kicking and pulling, the principal forced Spike back to his feet, roughly steering him through the students who parted like the Red Sea. Spike kept his chin up defiantly as they walked to the administration offices, his facial expression locked in a vehement snarl as he stared down anyone who dared to gawk at him. His message was clear: _I did not lose._

Trent trailed behind them, gingerly holding to his nose a fistful of tissues someone had offered him. He kept his gaze down, unable to meet the eyes of his peers as he shuffled by dejectedly. If there was any part of him that was more injured than the blooming bruises that mottled his skin and the smashed cartilage that was once his nose, it was his intimidating reputation, and he knew it. So instead of facing his fellow students, he focused on the thick scarlet liquid that oozed through the crumpled white squares he pressed to his face.

When the trio arrived at Principal Perry's office, she shoved Spike down into the nearest chair, firmly handcuffing him to it.

"You have handcuffs?" Trent asked her in mild surprise.

"Of course I do; I was a prison guard once," she replied defensively. "Now stay put while I go get my taser."

Trent's eyes widened, but there was no marked difference in Spike's countenance. If anything, he looked even more insolent.

Trent numbly sat down a couple of chairs over from Spike's, attempting to ignore the commando app's look of ire. He was substantially disturbed by the nerd's behavior; Spike was straining against his bonds toward the bully, baring his teeth and openly conveying his hate for the quarterback by his violent bearing.

Finally Trent couldn't take it any longer. "Stop it, you're freaking me out."

Spike's facial expression grew even more ghastly as he let a sneering smile of satisfaction develop. Still he remained nerve-wrackingly silent.

The older boy suppressed a shudder, genuinely asking "What happened to you?" He squirmed under Spike's fearsome look, mumbling uncomfortably "Chase… buddy?"

Spike barked a guttural laugh, at last saying "What happened to me? I decided I didn't like being nice anymore. And you'd better get used to it, cupcake." He paused suddenly, studying the football player intently. "Oh, and by the way, it's Spike. We're not friends."

Trent shivered with a chill of foreboding. He yet again felt relief wash over him as Principal Perry reentered the room, and he was glad that he was no longer alone with this maniacal 'Spike'. He tried to focus on Perry's movements as she rummaged through one of the drawers in her desk, but his attention was again captivated by his new formidable enemy who leaned even further in towards the quarterback.

"Just remember that you created the monster you see before you," Spike hissed a menacing warning. The school bully felt what blood was left drain from his face, and he desperately centered his attention back on Perry. Never before had he been frightened of anyone. And Trent was terrified.


	2. Chapter 2

Spike slammed open the door to the Davenport mansion, storming into the house with Adam and Bree in tow.

Leo looked up in alarm from the couch where he was watching a movie in his pajamas. "Chase…?" he asked in a hoarse voice before clearing it. The youngest bionic simply marched past.

"Guess again," Bree sighed as the app exited the large room into the hallway. Bree continued to explain, saying "Spike came out about an hour ago and beat up Trent."

"It was awesome!" Adam said excitedly. "Who knew someone so small could break Trent's nose so beautifully?"

" _What?_ " Leo exclaimed in disbelief, immediately pausing his movie. "Of all the days for me to be home sick!"

"Yeah, well Spike was so hyped up that even Principal Perry couldn't stand him for very long. If she had let him stay, he would have crippled Trent for life; it was up to Adam and I to get him to leave," Bree grumbled.

"And you brought him back here?" Leo squeaked.

"It's called saving the world," Bree muttered, flopping down on the couch next to her step-brother tiredly.

"Um, where did Spike go?" Adam called nervously, glancing down the hallway before looking back at his siblings.

"Uhhh…." Bree and Leo exchanged looks of worry before standing up quickly.

" _Spike,_ " Mr. Davenport fumed as he entered the room from the hallway, "is destroying my _priceless_ Manchurian bowl collection!" He came to a stop, crossing his arms irately. "Why is Spike on a rampage?!"

The three teens glanced at each other, Bree finally saying "The quarterback was teasing him."

"Teasing him? I'm pretty sure Chase can handle a little _teasing,_ " Mr. Davenport said, giving them a hard look.

"Trent called him Ladyface," Adam added with amusement. "It was really funny!"

Mr. Davenport frowned. "Funny, huh?"

"Well yeah, everyone was laughing at him."

The tech mogul's frown turned into a scowl.

Leo, sensing their impending doom, quickly interjected by saying "I'm sure it wasn't _that_ bad."

"Well, that wasn't all that Trent said," Adam divulged, missing Leo and Bree's looks of trepidation. "He said some other stuff too, and we all thought for sure that Chase was going to cry."

Mr. Davenport's countenance darkened drastically, and as calmly as he could manage through clenched teeth, asked "And you left him on his own against this _bully?_ "

Adam and Bree recoiled, their cheeks flushing with shame as they averted their eyes. "Yes…" Bree answered huskily.

Mr. Davenport exploded. "How could you leave your _little brother_ out to dry? You are his older siblings! You're supposed to _take care_ of him!" The bionics cringed at the reprimanding, guilt stabbing them cruelly. Neither of them said anything, Bree pretending to be deeply fascinated with one of her fingernails while Adam simply hung his head in shame.

The head of the household let out an angry sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration and disappointment. "As soon as Chase comes back, you both need to give him a sincere apology; until then, _you_ are going to watch Spike and try to calm him down. Got it?"

"Got it," Adam and Bree chorused dejectedly.

"For the record, I expected better of you," Mr. Davenport said in one last statement. With that, the angry mogul promptly left the room, muttering crossly under his breath.

"Well, you two have fun with Spike – I'll just be upstairs, in my room, with the door locked…" Leo said into the silence, standing up from the couch.

"No Leo, you can't leave us on our own with him!" Bree pleaded.

"Why not? You guys deserve it. And plus, I'm sick!"

"Yes, we did earn it," Bree acknowledged uncomfortably, "but this is _Spike_ – we're going to need all the help we can get."

After a long look, Leo sighed, relenting "Alright, alright, I'll help you – I'm mostly better now anyways."

"Thank you Leo!" Bree exclaimed before throwing her head back in relief. Looking back at Leo, she flashed him a fleeting grin before she said "Let's go get Chase back."

The three then began making their way to where the bowl collection was, creeping down the hallway cautiously. They heard a roar accompanied by the ringing crash of breaking pottery, followed by a pause filled with enraged panting. They peered around the doorframe, seeing Spike facing away from them. His back visibly rose and fell with every heaving breath; he stood with his feet shoulder-length apart, his shoulders hunched, his head aggressively cocked downwards, and his fists clenched so tight that it looked painful.

The other three glanced at each other nervously before Bree swallowed, stepping into the room with the other two following in her wake. "Hey Spike," she said gently, trying her best to keep her nerves from being apparent in her voice.

Spike whipped around, glaring at the three intruders in turn. "What do you nugget-heads want?" he demanded.

Bree carefully picked her way through the shards of pottery over to him, pushing back her anxiety. "Spike, please calm down. It's okay, everything is fine now."

The commando app's lips rose into a snarl, and he snapped "I'm not a dumb animal, _cupcake_ \- everything is just peachy!"

"Please, Spike," Bree began to say, reaching out to put a soothing hand on his shoulder.

But Spike's arm shot up and whacked her hand away, the app growling "So much as _touch_ me and I will break off your fingers and use them as throwing darts!"

Realizing that this was not going so well, Leo decided to step in. "Spike, let's take a deep breath and think of… sleeping kittens!"

"I hate cats,"[1] the app said with his face scrunched up.

"Okay, so sleeping… sharks."

A small smirk grew on Spike's face. "They're better when their prowling for other fish, and then when they smell blood in the water…." A giddiness came over the app, and he seemed to relax. Leo's approach had worked.

"You know what, Spike? I think there is a documentary about sharks recorded – want to go watch it?" Leo asked.

"Will there be gory hunting scenes?"

"I don't know, I haven't seen it yet, but I'm sure there will be – come on." With that, Leo led the app controlling his youngest step-sibling out of the room, leaving Adam and Bree alone in the room of broken pottery.

"How does Leo do that?" Bree asked wonderingly.

"Beats me," Adam replied with a shrug. "I don't know about you, but I really want to watch that documentary now." He turned and began to go after the other two.

"Nuh uh uh, not so fast!" Bree exclaimed, zooming over to grab onto her older brother. "I'm not cleaning this up all by myself; you're helping me."

"Aww," Adam complained, his shoulders slumping with disappointment. The oldest two bionics examined the mess around them; the floor was littered with sharp pieces of the destroyed bowls, each one a unique shape and size, all with jagged edges. There were few bowls that had escaped Spike's wrath.

The teens heaved a sigh. "Let's do this," Adam said unenthusiastically.

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[1] In the canon plot, Spike may in fact like cats. But the author highly doubts it.

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 **AN: I have something really quick to say - in rereading this, I almost cringe at my writing, but I am sharing this with you all anyways. Throughout this story, you will see not only Spike's growth, but also my own growth as a writer and storyteller. This was written almost a year ago, and I swear I'm better now - hang in there until we get to the good stuff (which is also super intense content-wise). I'm not apologizing - I still think it's fairly good - but I'm telling you that you should have faith in what I've become so that you don't miss out ;)**

 **Well anyways, thank you everyone for the amazing reviews and support this story has already received - you all are incredibly awesome! :D**

 **Keep your eyes open for Chapter 3!**


	3. Chapter 3

**AN: I'm quickly answering a common question - LovelyInspiration knows the answer already ;) - No, I did not get the line from _The Vanishing_... I wrote it nearly a year earlier; you can imagine my reaction when I watched the episode xD (It went something like this: I CALLED IT! And then I was over it and enjoyed the rest of the show) Anyways, thank you everyone who has left amazing reviews - I love you all and you should totally keep it up :D If you haven't reviewed yet, well, be awesome and review ;P On to the story...**

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"I'm home!" Tasha called as she entered into the house, carrying three white boxes of pizza stacked in her arms. "Let's get our family movie night started!"

The teens paused their card game, looking up to her with interest. Mr. Davenport rushed over to his wife from where he had been working at his desk, giving her a quick kiss as he took the pizzas from her. "How did your interview with that plane crash survivor go?" he asked as they walked over to the kitchen.

"It was difficult to get him to open up, but once he did, he gave us so many quotes! He was a little gruff…." The teens went back to their game of cards, having lost interest in the adults' conversation. They avidly stared down at the stack of cards in the middle of the table, carefully eyeing each ink marking. They unconsciously drew from their own piles of face-down cards to lay one on the middle pile when it came to their turn, their heart jumping in anticipation every time.

"He kept fidgeting, so we had to re-shoot many of the scenes, but in the-" Tasha was saying when she was interrupted by the sounds of slapping, a guttural "Ha ha!" of triumph, and multiple groans. She turned quickly to see the youngest bionic collecting the haphazard pile of cards in the middle of the table, a smirk dancing on his lips. His siblings looked considerably annoyed.

"Chase? Was that you?" Tasha asked, surprised by how deep his voice had been.

"I'm not Chase," the bionic stated, the pitch of his voice still throwing her off.

The mother-figure connected the dots, and she said "Ohhh, you're Spike. Of course. Silly me." Turning back to her husband, she quietly hissed "Donald! Why is Spike here?"

Mr. Davenport gestured for Tasha to follow him, and the couple walked out of the kitchen and down the hall. When they were certain that the kids were out of earshot, Mr. Davenport turned to her and began to explain: "Chase was bullied at school today, and Adam and Bree didn't help him. He turned into Spike and he was so out of control that Adam and Bree had to leave school with him. They, with Leo's help, have been keeping Spike out of trouble since."

"But it's seven o' clock – Spike must have been around for _hours_ by now!"

"Yes, he has been; I'm getting a little worried, but I'm sure Chase will be back by at least tomorrow morning - for all we know, he could be back right now." Mr. Davenport tried to wear an expression of confidence, but his unease was obvious.

"But what if he's not? What do we do until then?"

"We do our best to be nice to him and keep him calm," Mr. Davenport said with a shrug. "Besides that? Not much - that's really the only way to get Chase back. We'll just have to wait."

"Donald, he's dangerous!" Tasha said, her concern evident.

"That's why we have to be extra careful – I'll make sure that Adam, Bree, and I will always be by him in case things get out of hand."

"But what about Leo? I don't want him in harm's way."

Mr. Davenport looked at his wife steadily, meeting her eyes which revealed the fear she was trying so bravely to hide. They stood in silence for a moment before Mr. Davenport said "Leo seems to be the only person who can get through to him – out of all of us, he's probably the safest. But just in case something did happen, I won't let either Spike or Leo out of my sight; I promise."

After a moment, Tasha nodded, saying "I'll keep an eye on them as well." Mr. Davenport took her hand comfortingly, holding it in both of his hands for a moment before letting go with one and leading her back into the main living area.

They were greeted by the sight of all four teens sitting on the edge of their seats, each in turn drawing a card from their respective piles and throwing it face up on top of the middle pile. As Adam laid down a jack, they lunged for the pile, a chorus of hands slapping the table followed by Bree's victorious "Yesss!" as she got to the pile first and the boys' grumbles and groans.

"No fair, you're using your super-speed!" Leo complained as Bree gathered her spoils and shuffled them, adding them to the bottom of her personal pile.

"Actually, I'm not – you three are just slow," she said with a smug smile.

"And yet I'm still winning," Spike gloated, gesturing to his pile. It was true; his pile remained the largest.

"Alright guys, let's call it quits," Mr. Davenport interjected before they could start another round. "It's time for pizza and a movie."

"Woohoo!" Adam celebrated, putting his fists up in the air.

Leo began to collect all of the cards in order to put them away, asking his mother "What kinds of pizza did you get?"

"Canadian bacon with pineapple, pepperoni with sausage, and double cheese," Tasha answered, unable to help her blooming smile at the excitement of the teens. "We've also got a bag of garlic bread sticks, and there are two-liter sodas in the closet if one of you will go and get it – whoever does gets to pick what kind."

"I'll get it!" Leo volunteered, leaving the cards only half packed away. Bree took it upon herself to finish the job with a sigh. Leo came back shortly, saying " _Dr. Pepper_ ™ it is!"

"So now we have to decide what movie we're going to watch," Mr. Davenport stated. "Any preferences?"

Spike had been observing these happenings in fascinated silence, but now he spoke up. "Something with blood in it," he requested with a maniacal glint in his eye.

The others just stared at him for a moment before Mr. Davenport said with raised eyebrows " _Okay._ I... think we can do that." Pause. "Does anyone have any suggestions?"

After a brief thoughtful silence, Bree piped up. "I saw the trailers for _The Maze Runner_ ™ a while ago, and it looked like it was pretty good. Oh, and it definitely had blood in it." She wasn't sure what she'd think about the plot-line, but the actor for the main character had caught her fancy - she had been yearning to watch it since.

"We have that recorded," Tasha said as she pulled out plates from the cupboards. "That could work."

"Alright, I'll go get that set up while the rest of you get your food, and then we can begin," Mr. Davenport instructed, going to do as he said he would. It wasn't long before the entire family was squished onto the large white couch, contently munching on pizza as their eyes remained glued to the screen. Spike sat on the edge, deftly keeping his distance from the others.

Right from the beginning, the movie struck a chord with the commando app. Coming to abrupt consciousness without preamble: not having a clue about where he was, who was with him, and what he was doing. This experience was something that Spike went through every time he was activated. And just as the movie accurately portrayed, it was terribly disconcerting and certainly frightening.

But what made him different from the movie characters was that he defended himself aggressively right off the bat; it worked very effectively. And it made everything so much more fun. The characters in the movie were stupid because they just asked questions and got pushed around.

This drawback did not keep Spike from enjoying the movie, however. The violence made it forgivable.


	4. Chapter 4

The youngest bionic heaved a large yawn, his jaw stretching uncomfortably wide. As he attempted to rub away the sleep from his eyes, he stepped out of his capsule, looking around the lab groggily. Of the three bionics, he was the first to wake up.

His growling stomach prompted him to search out food, and after a moment of thought, he remembered the way to the main level of the house where the kitchen could be found. Retracing his steps from the night before, he made his way to the elevator and rode up, waiting impatiently to arrive at his destination.

As soon as he heard the soft _ding_ of the elevator and the doors slid open, he lumbered out to the kitchen where he began exploring the contents of the pantry and the fridge. He sifted through various breakfast items such as _Pop Tarts™_ , fruit, both hot and cold cereal, yogurt, and frozen waffles, unable to make up his mind. Nothing sounded overly appealing.

He finally opted to eat a banana and a bowl of cereal without the milk. As soon as he finished sluggishly chewing the last of his breakfast, he trudged over to the couch, flopping onto his stomach and burying his face into the pillow. He felt like a zombie.

After an unspecified amount of time - it could have been five minutes or five hours for all he cared - he heard someone walk down the stairs and enter the living area. There was a bit of shuffling followed by a pause, and after a moment, he heard Tasha say "Good morning, Chase."

The bionic didn't bother to lift up his head, merely grunting into the plush fabric he was laying on. "Someone's a little tired," he heard Tasha mutter.

More time passed, filled with the sounds of running water from a faucet, the hum and beeping of the microwave, the rain of ground coffee being poured from a spoon into a cup, and the clinking of metal on a ceramic mug as Tasha made herself a cup of coffee. There was more shuffling, sounds of the dry rustling of paper and soft sipping of hot liquid filling the air as time continued to pass.

These quiet events were soon disturbed as two sets of feet stepped down the stairs. With a "'Morning Tasha," and a "Hi mom," Mr. Davenport and Leo came into the room. The bionic absentmindedly listened to the other three people in the room amble around, his interest only being mildly peaked by the smaller set of footsteps as they approached him.

"Oh, hey Chase. Didn't see you there," Leo said. When the bionic didn't respond, Leo asked "Could you move or something so that I can sit down? You're hogging the whole couch."

The bionic only growled into the pillow in response.

"Crabby-pants," Leo grumbled. "Come on, just sit up, will you?"

The bionic remained silent and motionless.

"Alright, you asked for it," Leo warned, and with that he plopped down on the bionic's outstretched legs.

"Ger'off o' me, scumbag!"

Leo froze, his eyes widening.

The bionic lifted his head, turning it so that he could see the younger boy who was sitting on him. His face was lined with crease-marks from the pillow. "I said, _get off!_ " he snarled, his eyes set in a squinted glare.

"Spike!" Leo squeaked, leaping off of the commando app so quickly that he tumbled to the floor. Mr. Davenport and Tasha looked over in alarm, the three of them watching the app as he let his face drop back into the pillow.

"When did you come back? Why?" Leo questioned warily.

"I never left," was Spike's muffled response.

The non-bionics glanced at each other, their faces portraying their worry. For a couple of minutes, nobody moved.

Finally Leo broke the temporary paralysis, picking himself up and grabbing the TV remote before sitting back down on the ground, his back against the couch. "I don't know about you, Spike, but I'm going to watch some cartoons," the younger boy said as he turned on the TV and sound system, flipping through the channels.

The adults shook themselves from their thoughts, sharing a look. With that they went to a far side of the room and began talking quickly in hushed voices. Leo settled on a station playing classic cartoon reruns, shifting himself into a more comfortable position.

After a time of listening to silly voices and cheesy sound effects, Spike finally rolled his head to the left so that he could see the TV. He watched as a shadow all around a cartoon coyote grew bigger and bigger with an accompanying high pitched whistle, and within a moment there was a mighty _boom!_ and he was utterly squished by a large boulder. The next scene showed the coyote emerging all crumpled and twisted with a black eye, large goose-eggs sprouting from his head with stars dancing around him. Spike couldn't help giggling at that.

Leo briefly glanced at the app in surprise, but he didn't comment on it. And so the two watched cartoons contently for a time.

* * *

"Good morning everybody!" Adam greeted loudly as he entered the main living area. Mr. Davenport and Tasha only looked at him momentarily before continuing their conversation at the dining table, but there was no reaction from the younger boys. Adam frowned. "Who wants to join me in hunting the biggest dust bunny in town today?"

The adults ignored him, Leo made a face at him, and Chase still didn't acknowledge his presence. Adam's frown deepened. He walked over to the couch and without warning picked up the older of his two younger brothers from behind, saying "You get to help, Chase – you can be the bait!"

Chase's facial expression twisted into a vicious snarl, and in a deep voice he spat "Only if we use your face to catch them!" With a _whump!_ he punched the oldest in the stomach, causing Adam to drop him. The younger boy fell to his feet, shoving the oldest away as he growled "And not even then!"

Adam realized his mistake as he resized up his brother. This wasn't Chase, it was Spike. "Why are you still here?" Adam asked bluntly.

Spike only gave him a look of ire before turning away in a huff to let himself fall over the back of the couch and into the cushions once more, yet again sprawling across the piece of furniture. Adam met the gazes of Leo, Mr. Davenport, and Tasha in turn before shrugging and turning back to the TV screen to watch the rest of the episode from where he stood.

As the commercials began playing, Adam quietly announced to the younger boys "I'm going to prank Bree – wanna help, Leo? … Spike?"

"What kind of prank?" Leo asked, intrigued.

"I don't know, I was thinking of switching out the water in her capsule for vinegar," Adam said with a grin. Leo broke out into laughter, and even Spike couldn't help cracking a sly smile.

"I'm in," Leo said with a grin. "And Spike will do it too," he added.

"I never said that," Spike argued.

"But you're going to do it," Leo said firmly as he stood up. Before Spike could object, the youngest boy added "Come on, it will be fun." He held out his hand to the app.

Spike stared at the proffered hand, and with a small scowl he took it and started to pull himself up. Despite Leo's best effort, the youngest was pulled into the app, being that he was not strong enough nor heavy enough to be of any help. Adam heaved a sigh of disappointment and just picked them both up himself.

Once he was on his feet, Spike slapped away Adam's hand with a growled "Meathead," glaring at the oldest. Adam put his hands up in surrender, and Spike turned away from him with a huff a second time that morning.

"Alright, let's give Bree a prank she'll never forget," Leo said into the uneasy silence, and with that the boys exited the living area.


	5. Chapter 5

Bree came awake on her own terms, which she savored. Looking to her right, she saw that her brothers were already up and about being that their capsules were empty, and she let out a small sigh of relief. She could have a little time to herself for a change.

 _What am I going to do?_ she wondered. She let a smile creep to her face; she knew exactly what she was going to do. _This is the perfect opportunity for me to try out new outfit combinations without Adam and Chase teasing me._

But she wasn't going to be too hasty – she would need to wash up before wearing her clean clothes. As her capsule began to shower her, she realized immediately that something was very wrong. She choked, her eyes watering as the fumes overwhelmed her. _Vinegar?!_

" _Adam! Chase!_ " she shrieked, ending the shower immediately and changing back into her pajamas. She was soaked to the bone with the bitter substance, her face screwed up into a pucker with the strength of the sour taste. Her eyes stung and she felt as if she could barely breathe.

Bree heard her brothers' raucous laughter, and her anger swelled to new heights. One of them offered her a towel as she stepped out of her capsule, and ripping it from his grasp, she vigorously rubbed her face with it. "Ughhhhh!" she screamed with frustration into the towel. "I can't _believe_ you guys!"

When she was able to see again, she saw Adam and Leo giving each other a high five with Chase standing a little ways behind. All three were laughing at her.

"This isn't funny," she snapped, throwing her towel at Adam as she stormed by. "Out of my way, Chase," she growled, trying to shove past him since he stood in her path.

But the youngest bionic stayed put, his face hardening. "Go around," he spat in a low gravelly voice.

Bree stopped, crossing her arms angrily as she sized him up. "Excuse my mistake; get out my way, _Spike._ "

"Go around, _princess,_ " he repeated snidely, clenching both his fists and his teeth in challenge and anticipation. Adam and Leo had fallen silent, holding their breath as their hot-tempered siblings faced off.

Bree scowled. " _Move._ "

"Make me."

"I will!" Bree shouted, but before she could act, Leo shouted "Stop!" Bree and Spike looked at him angrily, and he said "Stop it, guys." Going over to Bree, he guided her a step to her left, saying "Just move like this," and going over to Spike, moved him a step to the right, saying "and move like this," and turning to both of them, Leo continued: "and Bree can get by with little trouble. See? Compromise." The youngest boy quailed under his older siblings' cold glares.

"The point is that _she_ isn't going to boss me around," Spike growled.

"I have every right to tell you to move after you guys jacked my capsule and showered me in _vinegar!_ " Bree argued vehemently.

"Calm down, guys, please," Leo pleaded. "We're sorry Bree-"

"No we're not," Adam interrupted with a grin.

"Adam!" Leo snapped. "Yes, _we are._ "

"She deserves it," Spike said, also crossing his arms now.

"What's your problem? What did I do to you?" Bree demanded.

Spike glowered at her, his fury tainting the very air. "You've done enough. All of you," he snarled menacingly, turning on his heel and stalking away from them. The tension only eased when he was gone.

"What was that about?" Leo wondered aloud. "He was so mad that he didn't even want to fight."

"I don't know, and I don't care to find out," Bree snapped. "I just want to clean up, so leave me alone." And with that statement, the middle bionic also left the lab.

Adam and Leo simply stood there looking at each other in confusion for a short time. "I think we went too far with the prank," Leo said.

"No, the prank was awesome!" Adam said with a grin. "Bree and Spike are just sorry-sports."

"I don't know; they looked ready to tear each other apart. Let's hope they cool off before they follow through with their threats."

"They're fine, Leo. Don't be a worry-sport."

Leo rolled his eyes. "There's no such thing as a _worry-sport._ "

"Whaaaat?"

* * *

"Mom, I'm bored. I need something to do," Leo moaned to his mother as she straightened up the living room.

"You could help me clean the house," she suggested.

Leo quickly shook his head.

Tasha sighed, saying "Then you should go do something outside."

"Like what?"

"I don't know, but go find your siblings and get some fresh air."

Leo thought for a moment, trying to decide if that was a good idea. Although he wasn't sure what they would do, it did actually sound nice. He could see Adam and Bree going along with it, but he wasn't so sure about the youngest bionic. As far as Leo knew, the bionic was still Spike.

 _Well, it will keep him out of trouble,_ Leo reasoned. Aloud he said "Okay, I'll go get them."

Tasha nodded in approval, watching her son dart out of the room to find the others before turning back to the newspapers she was sorting through.

Leo first went to the lab, certain that he would find at least one of – if not all – of his siblings. His hunch was correct; he was greeted by the sight of Bree reading a magazine while Adam was scrubbing out her capsule.

"Hey guys, want to go do something outside? It's really nice out," Leo said as he walked in.

"Yes! We could find that dust bunny then!" Adam said excitedly, pausing from cleaning.

Bree's face scrunched up, and she said "No, we are not doing that! Do you even know what dust bunnies are, Adam? No, don't answer that."

Adam looked put out, heaving a disappointed sigh.

"So what are we going to do out there?" Bree asked Leo.

"I'm not sure, I was hoping you guys might have some ideas," he replied.

"Is Spike going out with us?"

"I'm going to invite him if it is him."

Bree scowled. "I don't want to do anything with that jerk."

"Come on, Bree, you have to! Remember, this is only temporary."

"Is it?" she asked, worry flashing across her features. "Why isn't Chase back yet?"

"Well, he might be – it's been at least an hour since Spike stormed off."

Bree pursed her lips. "Fine. We'll come out when Adam's done cleaning my capsule."

"What? Come on Breeeee," Adam whined.

"Your prank, you clean it up," she said bluntly with a scowl for her older brother. "The faster you clean, the sooner we can go out."

"Ughhhh," Adam groaned, scrubbing with renewed energy.

"Spike - or Chase - and I will meet you in the side yard then," Leo said as he exited the lab. When he reached the main level, his search for the youngest bionic began.

He checked the rooms down the hallway first, but they held no inhabitants. Next he climbed up the stairs, checking the guest rooms. As he looked in the last one, he let out a frustrated grunt and turned to leave, but as he did, something caught his eye. The door to the little balcony was slightly ajar.

Leo padded softly across the carpet, peering through the windows so he could see if somebody was out there. He didn't see anyone.

He gripped the edge of the door and opened it wider, slowly and silently. When it was open wide enough for him to pass through, he did, immediately feeling the sun's warm rays caressing him as a gentle breeze wafted around him. He studied the view for a moment, still amazed by its serenity.

He let his gaze wander over all that was in his line of sight, startling a little as he saw a figure sitting on top of the railing to the left, leaning his shoulder and head against the side of the house. The boy's feet dangled over the edge, the wind rustling through his messy hair.

"Hi Spike," Leo greeted, walking over to stand next to the bionic. Leo was certain that Chase would never put himself in danger so carelessly without good reason.

"What do you want?" Spike muttered absentmindedly, remaining as he was without turning to see who was talking to him.

Leo didn't respond, instead resting his forearms on the railing and looking down the small crag to the deep green and neatly trimmed grass several stories below. The green sloped off in a steep hill with an outcrop of trees surrounding a crick at the bottom. A fall from the balcony, bionic or not, would be life-threatening.

"You probably shouldn't sit there – you might fall and die," Leo stated mildly. Spike only grunted, the corners of his mouth turning upwards into a wry smile.

There was a brief silence, but it wasn't uncomfortable. A few birds flitted past, their chirps floating on the gently sighing wind. An angry squirrel somewhere began scolding whatever was bothering it.

Leo shifted himself, clearing his throat before saying "Adam, Bree, and I are going to hang out in the yard for a little bit – want to join us?"

"No."

"Why not?" Leo questioned curiously. "We're going to play some games, and the more the merrier."

"I don't want to."

"You would rather sit here and do nothing?"

Spike hesitated. "No."

"Well then come join us," Leo said.

"Not with the others," Spike said without elucidation. More silence filled the air, the only sounds being the flapping of their clothes in a particularly strong gust that blew from in front of them. A moment later they heard the distant tinkling of wind chimes from one of their neighbors' houses.

"What's wrong with them?" Leo asked, breaking the silence of their conversation.

Spike refused to answer. It was complicated - these were people who hurt Chase, so naturally he should hate them. He was fairly certain that he did after earlier that morning.

"Fine," Leo sighed, "I won't ask. But whatever it is, can't you put it behind you at least for now? Give them a chance."

Spike worked his jaw, appearing to be chewing on what Leo had said. The younger boy had hit the nail on the head, and Spike needed to process this; it seemed that Leo could see directly through the app as if he were glass, and that made him uncomfortable. Being understood so well was never a good thing... right? The bionic's eyes narrowed, and he finally turned to face the younger boy. "I'll do it. When?"

"Right now," Leo supplied, unable to keep the grin from his facial features.

Spike nodded curtly, pulling his legs up and swinging them over the edge, hopping down from his perch. Without pause he walked back into the house, leaving Leo to follow behind.


	6. Chapter 6

"No bionics, got it? I'm talking to you, Bree."

Bree sighed, looking to her youngest brother. "Alright. But if we could use them, I would kick all your butts."

"That's 'cause you have super-speed and super-agility – you can do anything in order to win," Leo replied. A thought struck him, and he turned to Spike, asking "Can you use Chase's bionics?"

"What are his abilities?" the app asked.

"That answers my question," Leo said.

Spike frowned. "No, seriously, what are his abilities?"

"Supreme nerdiness," Adam answered with a self-satisfied grin. "Oh, and disguise – as a woman!" Spike's frown deepened.

Bree elbowed her older brother without any gentleness, saying to Spike "Chase has super-intelligence, molecular kinesis, a force field, and some other stuff too. Oh, and you, Spike."

 _I'm just an ability,_ Spike dejectedly thought to himself, setting his face as stone.

"So do we want to start now?" Leo asked. "Who's seeking?"

"Nose goes!" Bree cried, and she, Spike, and Leo all touched their noses, leaving Adam confused.

"Whose nose? And where does it go?" he questioned, completely bewildered.

Bree and Leo rolled their eyes, Leo lightly shoving the oldest as he instructed "Just go over there, cover your eyes, and count to one-hundred."

Adam walked away from them to do as he was told, hiding his eyes in his arm, which supported him against the wall of the mansion. "One, two, three, four…" he began counting loudly. The other three scampered off to find a hiding spot that would fool Adam – which, admittedly, wasn't overly difficult.

"…thirty-six, thirty-seven… umm… thirty-two, thirty-three… thirty-two…."

Bree rolled her eyes as she heard this. _Idiot._ She settled down in her chosen spot behind the bushes, prepared to be there for a _long_ time.

Meanwhile Leo was mentally giving himself a pat on the back – he had found the perfect hiding place: he was in a crevice in a large tree that he was just small enough to squeeze into. _They'll never find me here… now if only my bladder were a little bigger…._

"…fifty-eight, fifty-nine… uhhhh, what comes after fifty-nine?" Adam called, but no one responded. "Guys! I can't count to one-hundred!"

 _Great. Just great. Good idea, Leo – make the simpleton the seeker,_ Bree grumbled silently.

"Okay, whatever. Not or ready, here I come!"

 _Take me now!_ Bree groaned.

Adam uncovered his eyes, blinking until they readjusted. He looked around, seeing no one. He spotted a large rock that he figured would make a good hiding place, and walking over to it, peered around it. Nobody there.

He turned to look at the crags when he stopped, his eyebrows knit together. There was Spike, his back against the rough rock, his hands shoved in his pockets and his eyes locked on Adam. Adam jogged over to him.

"You know you're supposed to hide, right?" the oldest inquired.

"Hiding is for wimps."

Adam shook his head in amusement. "I think the point of _Hide and Seek_ is to hide and not be found."

Spike scowled. "Then this is a stupid game. It's a game for a bunch of girls."

" _Excuse_ me?" Bree exclaimed, shooting to her feet.

Adam looked from Spike to Bree and back again, saying "Either I'm the best seeker ever, or you guys are really bad at this."

"Does this mean I win?" they heard Leo shout from over by the trees.

The bionics exchanged looks, walking over to see where Leo had been hiding. Unable to see him, their confusion was mirrored on each other's faces.

"I'm over here," they heard from one of the larger trees, and when they walked around it, they saw Leo squished inside. "Could you help me out?" he asked them with a sheepish smile.

After much pulling and twisting and squeezing, Leo was eventually free of his hiding place, and he brushed himself off as he asked "Want to go another round?"

"No," Bree and Spike said simultaneously, looking at each other with equal scowls. Adam only shrugged.

"Well, then what _do_ you want to do?" Leo questioned.

"Something that wasn't created by sissies," Spike requested.

"We're not little kids, Leo," Bree added, "even if one of us can't count."

Adam put his hands up in defense, asking "How is anyone supposed to know all those numbers?" The only response from his younger siblings was a look of annoyed incredulity from each.

Realizing that arguing with Adam would get them nowhere, Leo changed the subject, saying "I have a game in mind that you guys might like better – it's called _Ninja._ "

"We get to be ninjas?" Adam asked excitedly.

"Yeah, sort of," Leo answered. "Here's how it goes:…." He went on to explain the purpose and the rules of the game, grinning at how his older siblings appeared to like the idea of this game much better.

"Alright, let's start – get into position," Leo instructed, and the four of them made a small circle, putting their hands together and into the center of the circle. "One, two, three… ninja!"

As Leo said 'ninja', the teens jumped backwards into their chosen poses. Leo started by – within one fluid movement – swinging his hand upwards to try and hit Adam's. Adam moved his back in time to avoid Leo's offensive move, pausing before moving to attack Bree. It wasn't long before someone scored the first hit; Leo had to put his left hand behind his back after Spike successfully whacked it.

The game carried on this way for a while, Leo the first to go out with Bree the second. It was down to Adam and Spike, Adam having only one hand free. The two exchanged numerous mock blows with grunts and growls, but it was when Spike spun into and around Adam to make contact with his hand from behind that the game ended, Spike winning handily.

The app threw his fists up into the air, roaring in victory. "Ha! Take that, suckers! Who's the winner? That's right, losers!"

Adam's mood visibly fell, Leo sighed in disappointment, and Bree glowered at the youngest bionic, crossing her arms as she muttered "Poor sportsman." Looking at Leo, she said "I think I'm done for today."

"Me too," Adam agreed, and with that the older two bionics stalked back into the house.

Leo threw a look at Spike. "Good going, Spike. Way to ruin not just _Hide and Seek_ but also _Ninja,_ " he said before turning his back to the app, following the other two.

"What?" Spike asked into the following silence, but he received no answer.

* * *

 **AN: Oh Spike...**

 **Quick question: how many of you out there know what _Ninja_ is? This is a game I have only been introduced to within the last few years, and I personally love it! That might have to do with the fact that Asori here might just be a usual suspect for winning the game... xD If you've never heard of this amazing game, I recommend looking up the rules and a video of some sorts on how to play, because it is _the best_. PM me if you can't find anything ;)**

 **Thank you everyone for the awesome support through follows, favorites, and reviews - you all are even more awesome!**

 **So yeah... keep your eyes peeled for Chapter 7!**


	7. Chapter 7

Spike let his head fall backwards, laying it on the back of the swivel chair as he spun himself round and round out of boredom. As soon as he had entered the lab fifteen minutes earlier, the others had all exited briskly without a word, leaving the youngest bionic alone in the lab with nothing to do. No one wanted to have anything to do with him.

 _Good,_ he thought, attempting to shrug it off. But deep down, a part of him was disturbed that he was being shunned so coldly. _They don't matter – they're the enemies,_ he reminded himself.

But were they really? He couldn't help pondering this question; they had been fairly nice to him and had even included him in their fun. _Don't kid yourself,_ he gruffly told himself. _They tease and they push and they hurt. They're all enemies._

But then what was the meaning of the last day? What did they see in him?

Spike knew the answer to that one. _They see Chase._

 _Who is this 'Chase'?_

Spike let his heels drag on the ground, bringing himself to a stop. He sat up slowly, looking around. He wanted to find out who Chase Davenport was, and he figured that this was the best place to do so. He just needed to know where to start.

Standing up, he strode to Mr. Davenport's desk, brusquely rummaging through the contents of the drawers. Screw driver, post-it notes covered in scribbled writing, flash light, copper wires, scrap metal, mirror…. Wait, a mirror?

Spike shook his head, certain that he didn't want to know the explanation. He focused back on the task at hand, opening the next drawer down. It was full of hard copies of files, and with a sigh, the app began to hastily sift through them.

A few piqued his interest, such as a number of files dedicated to research and designs for weapons, but he resigned to save the exploration of them for another time. Three-fourths of the way through he found the folder he was looking for – bluntly titled _Bionics._

When he opened it, he was slightly disappointed; all it contained was a single flash-drive. No pictures, no paper records of anything. Spike sighed. He didn't like working with computers – he was far from a tech wiz. _Funny how the artificial intelligence despises technology,_ he thought to himself. _I guess it's too much like me._

Clutching the plastic-surrounded metal that he believed contained the answers he was looking for, he stood up straight, slamming the drawer shut with his knee. As soon as he arrived to the cyber-desk and located the USB port, he inserted the drive and waited with tapping fingers for the files to load.

A window popped up, and after reading his options, he selected to open the files. _Confirm Access_ read the window that next popped up.

 _Password protected. Drat._

Going back to Mr. Davenport's desk, Spike opened the first drawer and began searching through it again. He hoped that at least one of the post-its would have the password written on it.

Grabbing a fistful of them, he began sorting through password possibilities and straight up junk as he ambled back to the cyber-desk, discarding whatever wouldn't suit his purpose. He typed in the first possibility, hope rising within him.

 _Access Denied,_ it read.

The second string of letters and numbers was entered. Denied. Spike continued to enter code after code, his frustration growing after every denial. After the twenty-third failed attempt, he let out a roar of fury, banging his fist on the screen. _Access Denied._

He sunk down into a crouch, resting his forehead on the edge with a guttural growl. He should have known this wouldn't work. The only ways he would get in were either hacking or luck. And Spike didn't know how to hack and he certainly didn't have luck.

"Need help?" Spike heard from behind him, and he shot to his feet, turning to see who was intruding on him. When he saw that it was merely Leo, he let out an annoyed sigh, turning back to the cyber-desk.

"What are you trying to do?" Leo asked, walking to stand beside the app.

"Nothing," Spike grunted.

Leo peered at the screen, reading the title of the contents on the flash-drive. "Bionics. You're trying to learn about you guys?"

Spike paused, trying to decide if he should divulge his mission or not. Finally admitting to himself that he did need help and hoping that Leo could give him that help, he said honestly "I'm trying to figure out who the heck Chase is."

Leo appeared surprised by this, but he didn't say anything about it. Instead he said "I know the password – I can get you in."

"How?" Spike asked.

Leo shrugged. "I… might have been spying on Big D with the spy flies."

"The what?"

"Never mind." Leo lightly pushed past the app, quickly typing in the password. The window disappeared, replaced by lists of digital folders and files. "Wa la! We're in."

Spike firmly took his place at the desk again, scanning the list for what he might be looking for. Initial design, biotechnological infrastructure, funding sources… Spike was already put off. This stuff was too technical, too in-depth, _too much._ Boring. With a capitol B.

"Step aside and let the mission specialist do his work," Leo said confidently, sensing how overwhelmed Spike was.

"Who's that?"

Leo just stared at the bionic incredulously for a moment. "That's me! _I'm_ the mission specialist."

Spike snorted, and Leo gave him an indignant look. "Do you want my help or not?" the younger boy asked. Spike only waved his hand for Leo to go ahead, stepping aside to watch the youngest go to work.

Leo scrolled down the list, scanning the files for the ones he knew were interesting. His brown eyes darted from one item to the next as he silently mouthed what he was reading. He finally selected several to be opened, and it wasn't long before their windows popped up.

"Outta my way," Spike muttered unconsciously, his eyes glued to the screen. As Leo moved, the app scrolled down, taking in what he was seeing. It was a file specifically about Chase, containing his date of birth, his blood type, his general physical description, etcetera, etcetera. There was a picture of him for every year that he was alive, from baby to teen. Below each picture was his height and weight.

Spike then selected the next file in line: it was a file with a detailed summary of all the abilities he currently possessed, compiled throughout the years. "Advanced intelligence system, magnetism, a force field, enhanced senses, override capabilities, a commando application, molecular kinesis, advanced global positioning system… this kid is loaded!"

"Yeah, well he doesn't have much else going for him otherwise," Leo commented. The app darkened a little at that.

Spike continued reading through the list, saying once he had finished "Geez, get me in on this."

"No, I think you're good," Leo said quickly, his eyes wide.

Spike looked through the file for a little while longer before moving onto the next one, and the next after that. When he decided that he was tired of looking through reports, he stated more to himself than to Leo "So I know the technicalities and his abilities, but how do I figure out what he's actually like?"

"That's what you were actually looking for?" Leo asked, pulling Spike out of his thoughts. "You should've just said that 'cause the rest of us can tell you."

Spike scowled. "I'm not asking for story time."

"Okay, okay, fine," Leo said, putting his hands up in surrender. "But I can show you what he's like and answer your questions."

Spike gave Leo a hard look. "Alright, fine."

"Step aside," Leo said, shooing Spike back from the cyber-desk so that he could work on it. Spike complied with a suspicious frown, watching as Leo pulled up files from elsewhere on the cyber-desk.

Turning to look at the bionic briefly, Leo said "Mr. Davenport's got security cameras everywhere, and as I've said, I use his spy flies. What results is a butt-load of videos and pictures of us all."

"Why would you care?" the app asked.

A mischievous grin encompassed the youngest boy's face and he explained "I'm compiling all of the funniest and most embarrassing photos and videos of them to make into a mini movie; it's going to be their Christmas gift, so don't tell them!"

Spike only raised his eyebrows, keeping whatever comments he might have to himself. For the next hour or so, the two of them viewed the files, often laughing between Spike's scowls of disapproval and Leo's explanations of the recorded events. Leo shared the stories of how he had first met the bionics, how he and Chase learned to share Mr. Davenport's attention, the time the four of them had a strike against Mr. Davenport's rules, how he and Chase had entered a robot fight club, the last time they had been home alone for an extended period of time, and countless other events.

At one point they were interrupted by Eddy, the smart home system popping up on the screen in front of them. "Guess what time it is!" he sang, his voice grating on the ears of the teens.

"Ugh!" Leo groaned. "We're coming, we're coming."

Eddy giggled at Leo's displeasure before his emoticon disappeared, leaving Spike terribly confused.

"What's going on?" he asked.

"It's chores-day," Leo sighed, closing the files and removing the flash drive. "Come on – we've got work to do."


	8. Chapter 8

"Adam, Bree, Chase, training in fifteen minutes!" Mr. Davenport called as he strode through the main living room, making his way to the secret elevator.

"Not Chase, Spike," Spike corrected in as few words as possible without taking his eyes off the TV screen where his video game character was trying to kick-box a werewolf. Since initially being included in playing video games, he had learned to remain calm and controlled – what was on the screen wasn't real, it was only a game. But his excitement was not diminished in the least.

Mr. Davenport nodded, saying "Right. Spike. You can come watch Adam and Bree train if you want." With that he was gone, giving Spike no chance to respond.

"Why isn't Chase back yet?" Bree asked, her gaze shifting from her phone to piercing the youngest bionic. "This is the longest you've ever stayed, Spike. Half of Friday, all of yesterday, and now half of today so far. When is Chase going to come back?"

Spike remained silent, keeping his eyes fixed on his game character.

"Spike, _when is Chase coming back?_ " she pressed.

"I don't know," he muttered with a half-hearted shrug. He wasn't really lying, but it wasn't like he cared either.

Bree frowned, unsure of whether she should trust anything Spike said. She wished she could press him further, but she knew that nothing good would come from that course of action.

Ten minutes later the three boys had ended their game, Adam and Bree taking the lead in going to the lab, Leo and Spike following at a more leisurely pace since they doubted that they would be participating. Spike was curious about what the training sessions would include, and he wished he could do the training too. As long as it looked enjoyable. If so, he had a mind of forcing his way into the fun if it came to that.

When the younger two arrived in the lab, they saw that Adam and Bree were already in their mission suits, warming up as Mr. Davenport worked to get their instruction set up. Spike decided that he no longer cared if it was fun or not, and he immediately walked over to the tech mogul, saying "I want to train too."

Mr. Davenport looked up, studying the app for a moment. A small smile slowly grew on his face, and he nodded, saying "I think you should."

A triumphant grin overtook the bionic's face, but before he could celebrate, Mr. Davenport put up his hand. "But," he paused, "you can't get out of control, no injuries – period – and you _need_ to follow instruction _no matter what._ Got it?"

Spike didn't like the thought of anyone bossing him around, but when he looked at Adam throwing mock punches and Bree stretching out her legs for high kicks, he realized that in order to have fun showing up the other two, he would have to sacrifice his pride on this issue. At least for the time being. Was it worth it?

 _When they see me fight, I will earn their respect, and then they wouldn't dare tell_ me _what to do,_ he reasoned. _Good things will come to those who wait… I simply need to wait for the time when I will be the top dog._

Spike looked back at the billionaire, saying gruffly "Got it."

Mr. Davenport gave him another nod, this time of approval, and he said "Go hop into the middle capsule and you'll be dressed in a mission suit."

Spike sauntered over to Chase's capsule, stepping inside and closing the door. He let out his breath, and in a moment he was dressed in the skin-tight mission suit. _Yes!_ he thought with excitement. He was anticipating a good time.

He pressed his hand against the glass, pausing for a moment as a thought struck him. He was wearing Chase's mission suit, standing in Chase's capsule, about to train in Chase's place with Chase's family. He was living Chase's life.

He was living. He was free. _Sorry Chase, but I'm staying out as long as I can; and I'm not actually sorry about it. I really like having a life. Tough luck, sucker._

Spike pushed open the door, letting a wry smile creep onto his face. As he stepped out and began strolling over to the older bionics, he did his own walking warm-up. Arm circles, touching his toes, pulling his arms across his chest, grabbing his ankle from behind while remaining upright. He rolled his head and shoulders, the joints cracking. He cracked his knuckles for good measure.

"Let's get started, ladies," he said snidely upon joining the others. He received offended scowls in response, which he found quite amusing.

"Alright, I've changed our plan for today," Mr. Davenport announced. "Originally I was going to have you each specifically train one of your abilities, but I've decided that today is going to be a general training and self-defense day. Remember, no bionics."

Adam and Bree groaned, throwing glares at Spike. Spike smirked back at them.

"Let's get your blood flowing – give me two-hundred jumping jacks. Go!" the billionaire commanded, and the three bionics complied.

When they were done, none were winded, but their cheeks were a little flushed. Mr. Davenport only gave them a moment's rest before setting them back to work with one-hundred push-ups, followed by fifty curl-ups, twenty-five rockers, twenty lemon-squeezers, fifteen v-ups, ending with five one-handed push-ups for each arm. By the time they were done with this routine, all three bionics were breathing hard and wiping sweat out of their eyes. Leo simply spun on his mission specialist swivel chair with a grin plastered on his face, immensely happy at the moment that he wasn't bionic.

Mr. Davenport stood smirking at the bionics, enjoying putting them through this. With his arms crossed and wearing a sly smile, he took joy in observing how Adam was bent over with his hands on his knees, Bree was leaning against the cyber-desk, and Spike was walking in circles with his hands behind his head. They may have advanced strength and endurance, but even a workout of that intensity at that pace could tire them.

"Go get some water, you three – we can't have you getting dehydrated," the tech mogul told the bionics, and they gladly did as they were told.

When they came back, Mr. Davenport clapped his hands together once, saying "Next we are going to work on hand-to-hand combat." At this point he turned to Spike. "You are programmed to be a master at martial arts," and turning to Adam and Bree he added "but you two are not. That is why you guys, Adam and Bree, are going to duel Spike. It will be good for you."

Bree's expression darkened. "I'm not going against him!"

"Yes, you are. With my coaching, you and Adam will learn a lot. Who wants to start?"

Spike looked to the older teens, a smug smile tugging at his lips as he shifted himself to stand with his feet shoulder-width apart and his arms crossed. Adam and Bree's features betrayed them, showing how intimidated they were. Perfect.

"Me, me! I'm Bree and I volunteer!" Adam said in a high pitched voice out of the corner of his mouth closest to Bree. Bree scowled up at him.

Mr. Davenport looked far from amused, saying "I think you'll be going first, Adam."

"Aw man," Adam groaned. "Didn't you hear Bree?"

The tech mogul chose to ignore the oldest's last comment. "Adam, Spike, take your starting stances. Bree, come stand by me and help me assess them; you'll learn a lot just by watching."

"Why do you think Spike is _so_ good?" Bree questioned in vexation. "It's not like he's a pro or anything. Why do you assume he's going to beat Adam and me?"

Mr. Davenport snorted, saying "Because he is. That's his sole purpose – to beat his opponents."

Spike frowned at that. _My sole purpose… nothing more than a martial-arts machine…._ With that thought, Spike made a resolution. He would prove that not only could he fulfill his _purpose,_ but that he was more than he was made to be. He could think, he had feelings. Or at least he thought he did. Whatever the case, he would prove them wrong – he could be human like Chase. He'd be better than Chase.

He decided that Chase was his ultimate enemy.

Chase was everything that Spike was not supposed to be. But the others were wrong. Spike could be those things too. Normally he didn't get a chance to show them – _because of Chase_ – but now he had the perfect opportunity. Spike was going to be human too.

Spike lowered his center of gravity, breathing in, breathing out. In, out. His eyes focused on his target as a hawk might lock its gaze onto its prey. He was considered less than human, but no matter what, he was going to show them that not only was he as good as being human, he was _better_ than human. _I am better than Chase._

With this thought raging like a wildfire through the mind of the app, he flew into combat with the bionic strongman. He was determined to win. He was better than Adam. He was better than Bree.

He was better than Chase.

* * *

 **AN: Ooo, we're beginning to delve into the deeper psychological stuff, planting a seed...**

 **Oh, and I apologize to those looking forward to 'hard physical man labor' (Seriously, I love it, Dirtkid123!) for our favorite commando app, obviously it was not in this chapter. Later? I don't know, we will have to see :]**

 **Can I just say that I love keepin' y'all in the dark? I guess it's an author thing xD**

 **Anyways, thank you to those who are sticking with this story, just joining, and/or showing their approval for it through follows, favorites, and reviews! Keep it up, 'cuz you make me grin like the idiot I am xD All of you are great!**

 **So yeah, stay tuned for Chapter 9!**


	9. Chapter 9

"Rawr!" Spike roared as he flipped Adam, causing him to land with a breathy _oomf!_ The oldest was unable to get up for a moment, trying to force his lungs to take in air. With a gasp he was able to breathe again, and he sat up with a groan.

"Davenport, can we be done?" Adam whined. Looking to Bree for support, she met his eyes before turning to the tech mogul to nod vigorously.

"Mr. Davenport, we've been doing this for at least an hour and Adam and I are beat. We get it," she said, biting back her pride. Her mood was made even fouler by Spike's leer of triumph, and she glowered at him.

"Yes, you and Adam are done fighting for today. But your training is not yet finished," Mr. Davenport said. He walked over to Spike, standing next to the app. "I'm going to duel Spike now, and you guys – Leo included – are going to watch and analyze us."

The four teens snorted, trying to contain their smiles. Mr. Davenport scowled. "What? You think I can't hold my own against Spike? I'm the martial arts master!" Their only response was to attempt to shake away their amusement.

"Ready yourself," Mr. Davenport commanded Spike brusquely, setting his jaw.

Spike did, sinking into his ready position. He was a head shorter and weighed considerably less than the billionaire, and he knew that brute force would not aid him much. While he was the stronger of the two, he would be more easily pushed around by the man. He would need speed and accuracy to do the job.

Both duelers widened their stance, Spike more so than Mr. Davenport, and the app rose to the balls of his feet as he bent his knees, letting himself bounce lightly. They brought their hands up into a defensive position, their fingers twitching slightly.

Spike held Mr. Davenport's gaze evenly, seeing the determination his eyes held. The app let his own eyes lose focus, allowing himself to see the man as a whole; the flick of his eyes, a shift in his balance, or the twitch of a muscle would reveal the mogul's intentions, and the bionic was ready to spot the warnings.

Breathe in quickly, breathe out slowly. Spike allowed his rigidity to lessen and his muscles to tense, letting himself relax overall while remaining set to react. With the release of his next breath, he let his thoughts leave him with the air from his lungs, his mind clearing. He was ready.

Without showing any warning, Spike leapt forwards to the billionaire, pressing a flurry of hand-jabs. Mr. Davenport's reaction was to hop backwards, deftly blocking each strike. The billionaire snuck in an offensive hit at Spike, forcing the app to shift from attack to defense, and within only a few blows the bionic was pushed backwards, needing to carry out intricate footwork in order to remain on his feet.

The two paused, beginning to circle each other as they panted and resized each other up. Spike was surprised by Mr. Davenport's fighting dexterity, and he knew this was going to be a close match. He had easily beaten Adam and Bree – they were both skilled, but Adam didn't move his feet and was slow to react, while Bree lacked patience and anticipation.

Mr. Davenport, on the other hand, possessed much more skill, had patience, kept himself moving, and seemed to know what Spike was going to do before it was carried out. The mogul's only weakness was that he was not aggressive enough.

This time Mr. Davenport attacked, feinting high with an underhanded blow. Spike blocked both, twisting out of reach. Without missing a beat, he lunged back into Mr. Davenport, attempting to strike at the mogul's gut. The billionaire caught and turned around Spike's punch, and using the app's momentum against him, shoved him onto his back. But the bionic, as soon as he had made contact with the ground, leapt up and touched off a midair spin to roundhouse kick the mogul.

"Whoa, Spike's good," Leo commented, his eyes wide. Adam nodded in awe.

Mr. Davenport ducked out of the path of Spike's foot, and the two separated again, gulping in needed oxygen. Both were glistening with sweat.

"Is that all you've got?" Mr. Davenport challenged.

"You have no idea what I've got, old man," Spike responded, his voice a low growl.

Mr. Davenport let out an offended gasp with a frown. "You can't call me old!"

"I just did," Spike sneered. "What are you going to do about it? Go dye your hair _again?_ "

"I'm not old!" the mogul exclaimed, reengaging the app in the fight again. The two exchanged blows, but Mr. Davenport was too flustered over the insults to act with caution, and he began to make costly mistakes. Spike sensed his imminent victory, and he pressed his attacks with a new zeal, laughing maniacally as he did.

Both the billionaire and the commando app realized the nearing conclusion of the duel, and in one last valiant parting shot, Mr. Davenport double feinted with the last strike aimed at Spike's face. But the app was too quick to be caught off guard, and grabbing Mr. Davenport's arm, Spike used the mogul's momentum against him, as had been done earlier with the roles reversed, and flipped him to slam him on his back.

Spike roared in yet another triumph, drunk with arrogance. He had a perfect record and had emerged from today's training undefeated.

Mr. Davenport couldn't say the same, simply lying on the ground and gasping like a fish out of water in his defeat. Adam, Bree, and Leo all rushed to the billionaire's side, helping him sit up.

"That was amazing!" Leo said in astonishment. "You held your own against _Spike!_ "

"More than that," Mr. Davenport wheezed through his cocky smile. "I gave him a run for his money."

"Oh please," Spike scoffed. "There's a reason you're laying on the ground; let's not forget who the real winner is." He received cold glares in response, and when he realized his gloating wasn't going over well, he returned the glowering in full.

Adam pulled the billionaire to his feet, and brushing himself off, Mr. Davenport asked "So what have we learned today? Bree, how about you start us off."

Bree frowned in concentration, saying slowly "It's important to stay light on your feet – hand-to-hand combat is like a dance." Everyone nodded except for Spike, who didn't find it worth his time to stand around talking. Instead he had decided to go get water before everyone else.

"How about you, Adam?" Mr. Davenport asked.

"Flippy things look really cool – can you teach us how to do them?" Adam begged.

"I've already taught you guys the basics, but yes, I can show you how to do more advanced maneuvers. What did you notice today, Leo?"

"Adam and Bree weren't as smooth and balanced," Leo said with a shrug.

At this point Spike returned to the group, and Mr. Davenport asked "And what do you have to say about our combat training?"

"You all are bumbling idiots when it comes to fighting," Spike replied.

"Wow Spike, not making any friends today, are we?" Bree drawled, her expression dark. "For that matter, you don't make friends _any day_ – a jerk like you couldn't make a friend to save his life."

Spike's eyes ignited with fury, and he stalked up to her, making himself as threatening as possible. "Alright, cupcake, you want to go there? Let's go another round, and this time all rules are off."

"No, you are not doing that!" Mr. Davenport interceded, shoving his way between the belligerents. "If you have so much energy left, why don't you three" he gestured to the bionics "go run some laps. Adam, you only have to run fifteen, but Bree and Spike, you two are going to run twenty. No fighting, no bionics – got it?"

Spike didn't bother to answer, turning on his heel to leave the lab and make his way to where he knew Mr. Davenport's private mini-gym could be found.

"Got it," Adam and Bree groaned simultaneously before turning to follow the app.

As soon as the bionics left the room, Mr. Davenport turned to Leo, sighing "What am I going to do with Spike? He and Bree are constantly at each other's throats, and it's putting strain on not only the team but also our family. We need Chase back."

Leo nodded in agreement seriously. "In the meantime, you should probably go supervise them – I wouldn't trust Bree and Spike not to try to kill each other."

Mr. Davenport nodded in return, quickly leaving to go watch over the bionics and attempt to keep the peace. Leo sighed, letting himself fall limp on the chair. Just watching them was exhausting.

 _I'm glad I don't have to train like they do – and I'm even more glad that I don't have to duel Spike,_ Leo thought. Spike. He was quandary in himself. _Why hasn't Chase come back yet? Will he ever come back?_

Leo hoped so, and he knew that the rest of his family would agree. _How much longer we can survive with Spike?_


	10. Chapter 10

The alarms within the capsules went off with an infuriating little dinging melody, shaking the bionics from their dreams. All three groaned, and sensing that they were awake, the alarm fell silent. The same couldn't be said about the ringing in their minds that lingered for a couple more seconds.

"Wednesdays – I hate Wednesdays," Adam moaned, leaning his forehead on the glass of his capsule.

"It's Monday, dorkquad," Bree grumbled, attempting to rub the sleep from her eyes. "Another full week of school ahead of us."

 _School._ That word sent a figurative lightning bolt through the youngest bionic, and he blinked awake. School was fun; it was full of easy targets. But technically Spike wasn't allowed to go.

 _"_ _You expect me sit around here?" he had snapped, glaring at Mr. Davenport._

 _"_ _Yes, because you are meant to protect Chase, not go to school," the tech mogul had explained._

 _"_ _Yeah, being a nerd is Chase's job," Adam had added._

While that was true, Spike had no desire to sit around and do nothing. He was well aware that the others saw him as a force of nature: unpredictable and potentially dangerous. Spike was pleased with this, but the reputation had its drawbacks.

 _"_ _You're not going to tell me what to do," Spike had argued._

 _"_ _Yes, I am," Mr. Davenport had said firmly, a mild threat underlying his tone. He was not going to change his mind any time soon._

An idea struck him as a second bolt of lightning, and as he thought about it, school looked to be more and more of a reality for him. _They wouldn't tell_ Chase _that he couldn't go to school._

Brilliant! It was brilliant! The only hard part was acting enough like the wimp that he could fool the rest of the family. Spike grimaced – it was entirely against his nature, but it was necessary if he wanted to go to school.

"Chase? Spike? Which is it?" Bree asked as she stepped out of her capsule, already dressed and preened for the day.

"I'm Chase," Spike said, attempting to make his voice higher. He realized too late that he had overshot the pitch, so to cover up his mistake, he began coughing into his elbow.

Bree frowned, suspicious. "Are you sick?"

The youngest bionic shook his head, gesturing to his throat as he continued to hack, trying to convey that it was simply full of mucus at the moment.

Bree smiled, opening up his capsule and hugging him tightly as she cried "You're back!" Spike flinched, and resisting the urge to shove her away, hugged her tentatively in return. When she let go, her smile had grown into a wide grin. "Hurry up and meet us upstairs – we'll fill you in."

He nodded, and with that she turned and left. Adam had exited the room a minute before, so now Spike was alone. He let out a sigh of relief; he had passed the first test.

Within moments he was dressed, wearing some of Chase's nerdiest clothes, in Spike's opinion. He rolled his eyes – the kid was practically _asking_ to be picked on. No, asking was not strong enough of a word. _Begging_ was the right word. _Why do I even_ try _to protect him? In fact, I might actually_ help _his tormentors next time._

He stepped out of the capsule, hurrying over to the cyber-desk where within moments he had pulled up a video of Chase that Leo had shown him the other day. Spike had saved it because he thought it really revealed a lot about the little twerp. Well, Chase, that was.

Spike watched Chase demonstrate to Adam how to do a leg sweep during one of their trainings, executing it flawlessly. The app was disappointed that Chase did not continue, instead stopping to help his brother up. Chase then began explaining the move to his older brother, delving into the physics of it, and Adam's face showed more and more confusion as the younger boy continued. Adam finally interrupted with an insult, and Chase, after an affronted look, replied in kind.

Spike did not need to watch the entire video again, instead stopping after hearing Chase talk for a couple seconds. Upon clearing his throat, Spike worked to mimic what he had heard, and after a few tries, he nailed it. To make sure he had it down, he said a few quick phrases, pleased that he didn't noticeably falter.

"You sound ridiculous – but it's not like you didn't sound ridiculous before," Spike heard from behind him, and he whipped around with a frustrated growl. No! He couldn't believe it – he was busted already.

"What do you want, flat-face?" Spike snarled, glaring at the home security system.

Eddy's emoticon wore an amused expression, and he asked "What are you trying to do? Talk to your tiny bug friends?"

Spike's countenance darkened. "You're lucky you can hide in the wall."

"Cool it, love-boat. I just want to know how you plan to make mischief so I can either help you or bust you."

"Mind your own bee's wax!"

"You're going to school, aren't you?"

Spike glowered at the emoticon. "So what if I am?"

Eddy grinned. "Well then I'm going to help you. I want to see their faces when they realize it's you and not Chase – this'll be good!"

Spike shot the security system a look of deep suspicion, trying to decide if he should trust him or not. But it seemed that he had little choice anyway.

"Stay out of it," Spike finally snapped, stalking out of the room.

"You don't want my help?" Eddy asked in a whiny voice.

"No!" Spike called, stepping into the elevator. With that, the doors closed and he felt the familiar sensation of rising quickly before reaching the main level of the house, and as soon as the doors reopened, he stepped out. Role playing round two.

"Chase!" Spike heard Leo exclaim as the app walked into the room, and within moments he was being smothered by the rest of the family. He had to consciously relax and force a smile, something he would have never seen himself doing.

"We're so glad you're back!" "Do you know how long you've been gone?" "Why did Spike come out in the first place?" "We were so worried!" "We missed you so much!"

Spike cringed at the torrent of comments and questions, saying in his best Chase voice "Guys, stop!" They did, and he heaved a breath. "Can you fill me in later? We have to get to school." In truth Spike did not care if they arrived at school early, on time, or late, he just wanted to escape the mansion before he was discovered.

Several of the family members frowned in confusion, Mr. Davenport saying "We don't have to go yet."

"Yeah, shouldn't you know that, Chase?" Leo asked.

Spike scoured his brain for a convincing reply, finally saying "I should probably check in with my teachers before school starts in order to get what I missed from Friday."

The others still seemed unsure, but it was apparent that they had bought his lie when Mr. Davenport said "Alright, I'll drive you guys in early. Adam, Bree, and Leo, hurry up so we can leave."

It wasn't long until they were out the door and driving to the school, silence pervading the air. The others seemed to sense that Chase (as they thought) did not want to talk.

When they arrived at their destination, the teens exited the car, Spike breathing in the moist air off the cool breeze. Light gray clouds blocked the blue sky from sight, much-needed gentle showers of rain certain to come sometime during the day.

The commando app's gaze rose as the Davenport's and Dooley strolled up to the dull building, reading _Mission Creek High School_ next to the dingo logo. Excitement coursed through his veins; this was his playground, and he fully intended to enjoy himself.

* * *

 **AN: Heyo, wonderful readers! What do you think, Spike going to school... under the guise of Chase... How do you think this will play out?**

 **Fun Fact: The cover for this story is a completely original, creative brainchild of mine. Made by yours truly :S I first sketched and cartoonized the side of Billy Unger's face, took a photo, and then worked some magic on the computer to harden and define the outlines in standard black, filled it in with white, then copied it and inverted the black and white. After splicing and diagonally lining them up the best that I could, I then typed out the title, sliced it in half and inverted the colors, combined the picture and text, and wah-lah! A title cover made with lots of time, effort, and immense frustration for Asori here. So yeah, fun stuff. A glimpse into what I do to prepare stories :S**

 **That's all I have to say for today - keep your eyes open for Chapter 11!**


	11. Chapter 11

Spike broke away from the older bionics and Leo as soon as he could, making sure to avoid them as he wandered around the school. He couldn't help tripping a couple people and "accidentally" knocking over stacks of books just waiting to fall and litter the floor. He struggled not to laugh at the facial expressions of his peers; people cared too much about these little things.

At one point he realized that he did not know where he was supposed go once the first bell rang, so he stopped to dig through Chase's bag. It was full of books and folders, all color coded. He figured that they were in order from the first class to the last, with a few straggling books in the back. Deciding that the bag was much too heavy for his liking, he deposited anything he felt he didn't need into someone's unlocked locker at random. Much better.

The warning bell to get to class sounded, and he began ambling to where he had seen the math classrooms. Chase had been organized (stupid, if Spike was honest) enough to write the classroom number for each class, and the app took his sweet time getting to that first room. Most other students hurried past him, attempting to be seated by the bell starting the school day. _Pathetic,_ Spike thought to himself.

The bell soon rang, and Spike found himself alone as he leisurely strolled down the hallways, the sound of every squeaking footstep ricocheting off of the concrete walls and cold metal lockers. There was no better way to disturb the silence.

It was several minutes later that he made it to the Advanced Calculus class, loudly entering the room and striding casually to the nearest open desk. The wizened teacher paused midsentence, staring with the rest of the class at the latecomer. "What?" Spike snapped after plopping into the chair.

The class looked taken aback, someone whispering "What happened to his voice?"

"He finally hit puberty, that's what," someone else replied.

"Welcome to class, Chase," the instructor said slowly, peering over his wire-frame glasses at the app.

"It's Spike," Spike corrected bluntly, keeping his burning stare fixed on the teacher.

"Okay… Spike."

There were a few snickers throughout the room, but Spike deftly silenced them with a prompt glower at his classmates. He was aware that all eyes remained on him even after he turned away.

After a moment, the teacher resumed saying whatever he had been talking about before, and all interest fled the room, leaving the inhabitants almost visibly deflated. Spike slid down his chair until he was lounging in it, crossing his arms in boredom.

He was starting to doze off – this was far too early in the morning to do _anything,_ much less higher-level mathematics – when he was rudely jerked awake by crumpled-up paper hitting him in the back of the head. He shot straight up in his chair, twisting backwards and growling " _Who threw that?_ " He was poised to jump to his feet at a moment's notice, ready to make the offender wish that they had never been born.

There were surprised and equally sly grins on the faces of anyone who knew what had just happened, and Spike gritted his teeth in frustration. There was no way for him to know who had done it – he resorted to finding a way to punish them all at some point.

"Chase," the old man at the front of the room said into the silence of the confrontation.

Spike whipped around to face forward, glaring at the teacher. "I told you, it's _Spike,_ " the app barked.

The instructor stared at Spike steadily for a few high-strung moments before saying "Why don't you take a walk and come back when you're ready."

"No," Spike said sharply, setting his jaw. His fists were clenched tight, his muscles tensed and ready for a fight.

"Well then get your head screwed on straight and calm down, Chase," the man reprimanded with a new resolve, appearing to have a fresh air of authority.

Spike leaned forward, his expression dark and an angry glint in his eyes. "What did you just call me?" he asked quietly, his tone menacing.

"Chase," the teacher said evenly. "I called you by your actual name, Chase."

"I'm not Chase!" the bionic snarled. He was answered by silence, the other students looking on with enthrallment. The aged man held Spike's cold glare of challenge without flinching, an unusual phenomenon for the commando app.

"Class, take out your workbooks and do problems thirty-two through forty-six on page two-hundred fifty, and we'll go over them together when you're done," the teacher announced, and turning back to Spike he ordered "You are going to step out of class with me for a second." Without waiting for an answer, the man turned and left the room, Spike getting up with an annoyed huff and following without a glance to his peers.

When the two of them were out of the room, the teacher shut the door and began by saying "Chase-"

"Don't call me that!" Spike exclaimed, cutting him off rudely. "I've never been Chase, I'm not Chase, and I will never _be_ Chase! Got it, numbskull?"

The instructor blinked at him, clearly not amused. "I don't understand," he stated emotionlessly.

"I. Am. Spike," the app spat.

After a moment of silence, the teacher replied in a kinder tone, commenting "I didn't know you had D.I.D."

"What's D.I.D.?" Spike asked, thrown off guard by the seeming change of subject.

The teacher only shook his head, saying "That's not important right now. You and I have started out on the wrong foot, and I think we should fix that." Extending his hand, he said "I'm Mr. Hoffman, your calculus teacher."

Spike refused to take the proffered hand, maintaining his fuming silence.

Mr. Hoffman let his wrinkly hand drop. "If you are going to be in my class, I'm not going to take any guff from you, Spike," he said with a hard look. "I'm a war-hardened veteran, so I wouldn't recommend pushing me."

Spike looked away, gaining a little more respect for the aging man.

"Are you ready to come back into class and mind your temper?"

Spike nodded curtly, and deciding that the conversation was over, took the lead back into the classroom. He sat down in his seat again, remaining rigid as he watched Mr. Hoffman close the door and make his way to his desk. The app's eyes remained on the old man, analyzing his posture and the way he held himself; there were indeed traces of military-learned habits.

When the subject of the app's interest grew boring, Spike shifted his attention to what his peers were doing. Many were hunched over their desks as they scribbled notes onto their papers and punched numbers into their calculators, their gaze darting back and forth between their work and their books.

It was not much longer before hushed conversation began, signaling that the other students had finished their assigned problems. Mr. Hoffman picked this up as his cue to carry on with the day's lesson, and he stood from his seat to continue his pacing from before while he lectured the teens. Spike soon began to zone out, and distantly he wondered, _How can Chase actually enjoy this stuff?_

 _But then again, who cares about Chase?_


	12. Chapter 12

Spike sauntered down the hallway, moving aside for no one. Whoever made the mistake of not accommodating the commando app was roughly shouldered out of the way. Spike was much sturdier than what people would guess.

He had just turned into a smaller hallway that would lead him to the health classrooms when he came upon a sizable group of kids who might be stereotyped as juvenile delinquents, the group filling the narrow hall as they walked towards him. Spike was not about to back down, so he set his jaw and squared his shoulders, ready to force them to part for him.

Several kids did indeed move over to the sides when they realized that Spike had no intention of yielding, but there were still quite a few who did not. A confrontation was inevitable.

Spike felt his shoulders brush past people as they slipped out of the way at the last moment, listening with amusement to the complaints and rude comments made by those passing him. Spike: one. Everyone else: zero.

Spike stopped dead as he heard a particularly nasty remark from a girl in front of him, and he stepped each way that she tried to go so that she couldn't pass. The other kids slowed to a stop, watching the scene with anticipation.

"Get out of my way, loser[2]," she snapped, her countenance dark and intimidating. She had voluminous dark hair that was – obviously – dyed a bright blond, which was pulled back into a messy French braid that exposed the maroon-dyed hair underneath. Her skin was pale with a smattering of light freckles, made all the more dramatic by her thick black make-up around her knife-like blue eyes.

Complementing her striking features were the numerous glittering piercings in her ears and the lone piercing in her button-like nose, accompanied by her long and gaudy metal necklace hanging over her somewhat revealing loose black tank-top that had a graphic image on the front. Covering her forearms were a host of rubber, string, and metal bracelets, her light blue jeans were ripped up and bejeweled by little mock-diamonds, and her look was completed by black leather combat boots.

All of this Spike soaked in within a second, and a fierce smile grew on his lips. He liked what he saw. "Hey shawty," he purred, playing it cool; in truth she wasn't very short at all – he also liked that. He couldn't help imagining the texture of her light-colored lips as they lifted into a disgusted snarl.

"You're out of your league, _nerd,_ " she growled, shoving past Spike. The app let her go, breathing in her tangy perfume as she passed. He remained frozen where he was for a moment, watching her walk away with the other kids. Her strides were strong, confident, almost to the point of arrogance. She was in charge.

 _Out of my league… nerd…. That was Chase. But little does she know that she is well within_ my _league, because I am_ Spike. _I will show her – she will be mine._

Spike turned on his heel and continued on his way, his thoughts consumed by the girl. In his mind she was flawless – she was like him. They were of the same make: tough, rebellious, dominant. A blazing wildfire. And Spike liked that. A lot.

"Hey!" Spike heard someone call from behind him, but he ignored them, actually speeding up. If that was who he thought it was….

"Wait up, will you?" …. "Spike, what do you think you're _doing?_ "

Spike turned quickly as he felt a hand grip his shoulder, grabbing it and bending it backwards. "Owww!" Leo yelped, sinking a little before ripping his arm away. " _Why_ would you _do_ that?" he exclaimed, massaging his wrist as he ran a few steps to catch back up to Spike, who had resumed his swift pace.

When the app remained stoically silent, Leo continued his earlier thread of conversation. "What do you think you're doing trying to talk to Kenzi Locke – that was _Kenzi Locke!_ "

Kenzi. Sharp. Sensuous. Spike also liked that.

"Do you have a death wish? Dude, she's –"

"Shut up," Spike barked, cutting off the younger boy. There was silence from Leo in response, but it didn't last long. Before he knew it, Spike found his path blocked by Leo, who dug his heels into the ground and pushed the app to a stop.

"Get out of my way, cockroach!" Spike snarled, driving Leo backwards step by step purely by brute force.

"No, stop it, Spike! We need to talk, _now!_ "

Spike stopped suddenly, taking pleasure in watching Leo lose his balance and fall because of the abrupt lack of resistance. "What do you want?" the app growled as the younger boy scrambled back to his feet.

Standing up tall and lifting his chin, Leo said angrily "I was just hoping you were a Spikey version of Chase, but you _are_ Spike. When did you come back? Why?"

Spike smirked, saying "Surprise, surprise, I never left."

" _You tricked us?_ " Leo exclaimed incredulously, pushing the bionic to the side of the hallway so that they weren't standing right in the middle. "You are _cruel!_ "

Spike flashed him an evil smile before turning to begin walking to class again, but Leo stopped him by grabbing his arm, asking "Why? Why did you make us think that Chase was back just to take that hope away again?"

Spike swallowed whatever feelings he had, blocking out the hurt. He hadn't realized just how much they must loathe him. _Why would you care?_ he asked himself. _They're the enemies, remember?_ That thought helped him harden himself both inwardly and outwardly, and shaking Leo's hand off of his arm he coolly replied, "Nobody tells me what I can or can't do. And look now – I'm here at school and there's nothing any of you can do about it."

"I'll tell Davenport, and he'll have you locked up until Chase comes back," Leo threatened.

"No, you won't," Spike rumbled menacingly, his face set in a vicious snarl. He took a step closer to the younger boy, getting right in his face. "If you breathe a word of this to anyone, I will personally gouge out your eyeballs and use them as marbles. Understand?"

Leo could only gulp, his eyes wide. Spike let out an irate huff before turning and stalking away. Leo stood there for a moment, seeming to be stuck where he was. "Good talk," he squeaked.

* * *

[2] Foul language was used, but for the sake of keeping the story clean the author has chosen not to record it, instead substituting more appropriate language. This carries through for the majority of the rest of the story.

* * *

 **AN: Hey everyone! Okay, so I'm throwing in an OC, Kenzi. Love at first sight (well, for Spike anyways)? I hear that a lot of y'all pretty much despise that concept, so maybe this scene ruffled your feathers. But let me give you some words of wisdom that I know to be true: there are three different types of 'romance' (for lack of a better term), and they are love, lust, and infatuation. Love is the act of giving yourself/sacrificing for another person - you put them before yourself because you care about them that much. If you are Christian, you also know that in loving someone, it is your _duty_ to get them to heaven. Lust is just the opposite; your relationship with the person is based purely on what you can _get_ from them (most often the physical aspect), regardless if it harms them. A lustful person may not be trying to harm the other person, but they are so caught up in their selfish desire that one or both are hurt anyways. Infatuation is the gray area in between: it usually starts from interest in the physical appearance/personality of the person, and can either develop into love or lust. So keeping that in mind, what are you seeing in this chapter? What do you see in your own life?**

 **I told ya I'd make you think :P**

 **Anyways, so I also hear that a lot of you despise unrequited love as well. *deep breath* Well, this, too, is a fact of life - I _know_ this because I have been on both sides of it, chiefly the reject _ing_ side. I don't care to go into much detail, but know that things just weren't... healthy. Again, a fact of life. So back to our characters - do you think that this is unrequited love? Unrequited lust? Unrequited infatuation? Or none of the above? I won't tell you how this will develop, but I _will_ tell you that it's certainly not the basis of this story. So why do you think I added this piece?**

 **Another note: I've heard as well that long descriptions of clothes/appearances are frowned upon, and many readers really do not like them. Yes, in this chapter alone I pulled a lot of stunts that the general population doesn't appreciate all that much. But that description is actually important; it is a huge clue as to not only who Kenzi is, but most importantly, who _Spike_ is.**

 **This author has a specific purpose/plan for _everything_ :P Kudos to you if you can guess those reasons! Let me know in reviews what you think, and speaking of reviewing, thank you to everyone who has reviewed thus far, as well as to anyone who has followed/favorited this story! You peeps are just awesome!**

 **So, I guess that's it for now - keep your eyes peeled for Chapter 13!**


	13. Chapter 13

"Alright everyone, can I have your attention?" the gym teacher called, and slowly the class responded, lowering their voices as they moved in around her. When she felt that she had the attention of the majority of her students, she said "As you all know, today is the first day of our rugby unit, and our foreign exchange student from Slovenia, Matic Spec[3], will be leading it."

With a nod to the mentioned student, the teacher wordlessly transferred the authority to Matic, who stepped forward to take his place in the center of the bunch. On the shorter end of the average height range for his age, he was somewhat stocky but with clear athleticism. He had thick brown hair that was short in length and lazily combed forward, complemented by his somewhat-sunburned skin. In a moderately low voice with a thick accent he said "Hi everybody, like Ms. Keller said, we are going to play some rugby today and for the rest of the week. So… I guess you should get a partner before I show you what to do… so, erm, yeah."

Before he was even done speaking the other kids began moving around and talking again, looking for a partner before they might be the last ones. Spike glanced around, observing his classmates disdainfully. None wanted him as their partner, and he wanted none of them as his own. Within a minute, a scowling Spike with his arms crossed could be found as the only one without a partner.

"Anyone need a partner?" Matic asked, but Spike kept his silence. Who needed partners? Spike certainly didn't – he preferred to work alone.

When Matic didn't receive an answer, he continued. "Okay, does anyone know anything about rugby? No? Um, it is like nogomet – er, soccer – and American football." He went on to show his classmates what a rugby ball was and briefly explained the fundamental rules of the game.

"Okay, this is where you and your partner get a ball and throw it back and forth… go!" Matic said with mild uncertainty, visibly relieved that he was done talking for the moment. Half the students stepped forward to claim a rugby ball while the other half went to find a spot for themselves and their partner on the otherwise empty football practice field.

Immediately Spike realized his folly, and his scowl deepened. He was going to have to admit that he was the only one without a partner, an experience that was certain to be humiliating. And Spike was in no mood to be humbled.

As his classmates began clumsily throwing and more fumbling with than catching the rugby balls, Spike sensed someone approaching through the dry grass from his left and he turned to see Matic walking up to him. "Where is your partner?" the Slovene asked.

"Partners are for those who are incompetent on their own," Spike grumbled.

After a brief moment of confusion, Matic laughed, saying "Maybe, but I doubt that. If you are so good, why don't you throw a ball around with me and show me what you can do."

Spike set his jaw, moving backwards as Matic threw the ball to him. It was an awkward shape – like a slightly rounded and overlarge American football – and Spike struggled to get a grip on it. He was pleased that he didn't drop it, but he mentally kicked himself for failing to catch it properly. He would need to (grudgingly) accept that he would not ace everything on his first try.

Before returning the ball to Matic, the app slowly rotated the ball within his hands. The cloth skin loosely surrounding the ball itself was a rough fabric, and when Spike dug his fingers into the ball, he was mildly irked that the ball gave little resistance. Either this was how it was supposed to be, or it was terribly flat.

He brought his eyes up to study the movements of his classmates all around him, making mental notes of what not to do. Licking his lips in concentration, the bionic brought the ball up to the level of his chest, gripping it in his right hand as he drew his arm back, letting his left hand lead toward his target. In a jerky motion he launched the ball, lunging forward awkwardly in order to maintain his balance.

He watched with dissatisfaction as the ball missed Matic by several feet, not only too far to the right but also too long. Far too long.

"Nice arm, frend!" Matic complemented as he retrieved the ball.

"I'm not your friend," Spike responded harshly without missing a beat.

Matic stood up straight and stiff, his facial expression hard. "Relax; 'frend' is just – what is the word? – _slang_ where I come from," he snapped. "It can mean 'friend' but it does not have to; I guess that in this case it does not." After a pause he threw the ball back to Spike, saying "Now throw it _to me_ this time!"

Spike stepped backwards a few steps, holding his hands out to catch the rapidly spinning ball. Unable to wrap his fingers around it as it made contact with him, the app snapped his arms up to his chest with a small _fwump,_ forcing the ball to stay within his grasp. He was yet again disappointed with his less-than-stellar catching abilities.

Letting the ball roll out of his arms into his hands, he again assumed the throwing position, this time focusing on balance. He took a moment to feel the balance of the ball as well as his own center of gravity, unconsciously calculating how his balance would shift as he once more sent the ball flying through the air. Narrowing his eyes as he peered intently at Matic, he hurled the ball back at the Slovene. The commando app's follow-through was much more graceful this time, his movement flowing without a hitch. If anything could be said of Spike, it was that he was a quick learner.

Even though he had missed his target a second time, Spike took smug pleasure in watching Matic have to jump to catch the rugby ball. The older boy's fingers flicked the ball into his control and he landed easily, bobbing on his knees as he made contact with the crusty ground. Dust swirled around Matic's ankles in thin little brown clouds that mimicked the clouds above. Spike noted that Mission Creek was desperately in need of rain as he observed this; it was fortunate for the town that it seemed that at any moment the thirst of the vegetation might be sated.

"Closer, but not close enough," Matic said without sympathy as he easily launched the ball back to the bionic. This time it was Spike's turn to jump, and unsure of how trap the ball in his hands, he settled for slapping it down out of the air. He landed much as Matic had, standing up straight as he watched the ball bounce haphazardly until it came to rest before going over to it and picking it up.

Glancing over at the Slovene, the app saw that Matic was wearing a slight frown, his arms crossed in thought. Without either of them saying a word, Spike threw the ball back, and the rest of their little game of catch passed in silence. The commando app was conscious of Matic's examining eyes the entire time, certain that he was under critical scrutiny.

After what felt like ages but was in reality only fifteen minutes, Matic called the gym class to a stop, and slowly the others came to where Matic and Spike were at, forming a bunch to surround the exchange student like before. As Matic began explaining the next drill, Spike tuned him out, reliving the last fifteen minutes. While change of his form and skill had not been drastic, Spike's accuracy had in fact improved.

 _Gym is actually kind of fun,_ Spike thought to himself. Maybe the 'class' part of school wasn't so bad after all.

* * *

[3] Pronounced Mah-teece SpeCH.

* * *

 **AN: Heyo, wonderful readers! Whatcha think so far? Spike and gym class, had to see that coming...**

 **Fun Fact: Matic Spec is an actual person - don't stalk him! I actually don't know him - I just happened by chance to watch him and his team play tennis once. I liked his name so much that I wanted to use it for a character. It's also really fun to say. Goose liked the name too.**

 **Anywho, thank you everyone for the great support you all are showing for this story - you're all amazing :)**

 **Well, that's it for today - stay tuned for Chapter 14!**


	14. Chapter 14

Spike strolled out of the boys' locker room, a small bounce in his steps. His cheeks were lightly flushed and his hair was windswept, his eyes bright. Gym class had felt _good_. Spike decided that he liked rugby.

"Hey Spike," the commando app heard, and he turned his head to see Leo coming up to him. "Where are you going?"

Spike scowled; he had no desire to engage in conversation with the younger boy. "To the men's room," he lied. "Men only."

Now it was Leo's turn to scowl. "Are you really one to talk?"

Spike stopped suddenly and Leo did as well, the two facing each other. "I think I am, _daisy,_ " the bionic growled, getting into the younger boy's face threateningly. "Don't you agree?"

Leo quailed, backing away from the app. "Change of subject… you know we have lunch right now, don't you?"

"Of course I do," Spike scoffed, but that was also a lie. Chase's stupid method of organization did not give the app any clues about when lunch was.

Leo looked unconvinced, saying "Then why were you walking in the opposite direction of the cafeteria? _And_ the bathrooms?"

"Why haven't I ripped off your femur and used it as a baseball bat yet?"

"Come on," Leo sighed, grabbing Spike's arm to lead him back to the lunchroom. The app shook his arm free, following of his own accord. The two entered the large room through the double doors, hopping into the line of other students also waiting for their lunch.

"Sooo, how is school?" Leo asked, trying to strike up conversation in order to ease the tense silence.

Spike raised an eyebrow at the cliché question, but he answered "There's not enough blood." An amused smirk grew on his lips at Leo's disgusted expression.

They went through the rest of the line in silence, Leo paying for both lunches before he led Spike to the lunch table where Adam and Bree were already sitting.

"Hey guys," Leo greeted his oldest siblings upon their arrival.

"Hi Leo, hi Chase," Bree replied. Leo glanced at Spike to see how he would respond, but the app only gave them a small smile as he sat down. Leo frowned in confusion.

"Guess what, guys?" Adam asked excitedly, and Bree groaned; she had already heard this and wasn't looking forward to hearing it again. "I learned how to make a duck sound!" Putting his hands around his mouth, he made a low whistling sound.

"That doesn't sound anything like a duck," Leo deadpanned.

"See? I told you," Bree said victoriously to her older brother.

"Well then what noise is it?" Adam asked. The three turned to look at the youngest bionic.

"What?" Spike asked, but his voice was higher pitched – he sounded just like Chase.

"What sound _is_ Adam making?" Bree asked her younger brother.

"Does it matter?" He turned back to his food and continued eating. Adam and Bree looked a little surprised, but they shrugged it off, also digging back into their food. Leo's confusion was cleared by now – Spike was still trying to keep his head down so that he could stay at school.

"So Chase, are you ready for English today?" Bree asked, breaking the silence.

"What do you mean?" the app responded.

"You know what I'm talking about – you're the one who has been reminding me for the last couple weeks."

"Oh, uh, right," he said uncomfortably. He had no idea what she was talking about, and he saw that Bree had not expected his response by her facial expression. He would have to be cautious if he was going to remain undiscovered.

"I had a hard time starting it, but after the first few…." Spike stopped paying attention to the middle bionic, his attention captivated by a girl passing by him. He didn't need to turn his head to know who it was; Kenzi's fruity perfume gave her away. He turned to watch her as she walked over to her posse, her braid lightly swinging back and forth. He noticed the little gothic skull adornment that held the end of the braid together and he smiled wryly. As he had concluded before: they were of the same kind.

"Chase!" an offended Bree said in a clipped tone, snapping her fingers in front of the youngest bionic's face.

"What?" Spike asked irritably, his voice not quite as high as Chase's normally was. Realizing his mistake, he cleared his throat and added a few little coughs for good measure.

"What were you looking at?" she asked, peering in the direction the app had been looking. "Was that McKenzi you were getting all googly-eyed over?"

Spike scowled, and careful to speak at Chase's normal pitch, snapped "What's it to you?"

Bree looked a little taken aback, saying slowly with suspicion "A: a girl is more important to you than _The Odyssey_? And B: that girl is Kenzi? I didn't think that she was your type."

"And why wouldn't she be?" Spike demanded hotly, his voice threatening to slip down to his comfortable range again.

"You're sounding a lot like Spike," Bree observed, glaring at her younger bionic brother.

"He's having little relapses," Leo said quickly. "I mean, Spike did stay for a long time, so what can you expect?"

Bree's expression softened a bit. "I guess that makes sense."

Leo stood, grabbing onto Spike and pulling him up as he said "C'mon, _Chase,_ let's get you some fresh air so that you can cool off."

The app clearly didn't like being told what to do, but he saw this as his chance to escape the older bionics, so he complied.

When they were out of the cafeteria, Leo asked "What were you thinking? If you want to stay under the radar, you need to at least _try_ to act like Chase."

"I am!" Spike growled, his voice at his normal pitch. "It's not in my nature to be a complete wimp."

"Well, you can thank me for saving your butt back there," Leo said, raising his eyebrows and gesturing in a way that showed that he expected Spike to express his gratitude.

"Your thanks is that you get to keep your gallbladder for a little longer," Spike spat. Health class earlier that day had come in handy.

"Why do I even _try_ to be nice to you?" Leo exclaimed, throwing his hands up in frustration.

"We've all been wondering that for a long time, Dooley," the two heard, and they swiftly turned to see Trent walking up to them with a smirk plastered on his face. His nose was heavily taped up from being broken the previous Friday. "Not-Dooley is so much more fun to pick on, so if you know what's good for you, you'll take advantage of that fact and scram."

Spike hardened with anger, clenching his teeth and his fists. "How did you even make it this far in school if you never learn?" the commando app sneered. "I guess summer school is in session."

Trent gulped, his eyes widening slightly. "Fang!"

"It's _Spike,_ and you're about to get impaled," Spike snarled.

* * *

 **AN: Hey folks, I'm afraid that there is going to be an unplanned break in the story as of today - I am travelling, and I won't have internet access for the next week-ish :(**

 **A quick note: you can thank daphrose for the daisy insult - that was so perfect, daphrose; I hope you don't mind if I used it! Her amazing story _Sever_ helped me to be more creative with my own insults for Spike, so maybe you'll see some new ones pop up later in the story.**

 **Thank you for all of the much-appreciated support - your follows, favorites, and reviews really encourage this author here to smile in a world that can just beat you down. Thank you.**

 **Have a very happy Easter, and keep your eyes open for Chapter 15... soon...**


	15. Chapter 15

"Ah!" Trent yelped, leaping backwards as Spike made to lunge towards him, but the commando app was hindered by Leo who had semi-tackled him.

The youngest boy hung on tightly to the infuriated bionic who was trying to shake him off, grunting to Trent "If you know what's good for _you,_ run!"

The bully did as he was advised by Leo, and the squeaking of his tennis shoes on the royal blue floor faded once he had rounded a corner down one of the many hallways. With Trent out of sight, Leo mistakenly relaxed and was promptly thrown off by the app.

In what felt like no time, Leo found himself picked back up and tightly held up by the collar of his shirt to Spike's face, his nose within an inch of the angrily panting app. "Which side are you on?" Spike demanded.

"I-uh, um," Leo stuttered, trying to swallow. But he was unable to because the bionic gripped his neck in an iron hold in one hand while he held Leo in the air with the other; the younger boy was trapped.

"Give me one good reason not to gouge out your entrails and force you to eat them!"

Leo's eyes widened further at the madness dancing in the app's eyes. He was terrified to think that the bionic might actually be serious this time.

Spike held the younger boy in place for what felt like an eternity, his piercing glare flicking between Leo's petrified brown eyes. Finally the app broke the paralysis, snarling "Get away from me, and stay away!" as he shoved Leo to the ground and spun on his heel.

Leo simply laid where he had collided with the floor, holding his throat for a long moment as he watched the commando app stalk away from him. He was certain that he had been on death's doorstep only seconds ago.

* * *

Bright chatter filled the air as Bree strolled into English class with a couple of other girls; her friend Mallory had just shared how on her birthday the previous Saturday, her boyfriend had surprised her with a baby bunny named Coco-Puff and a sweet card about how he was just _hopping_ mad in love with her. The middle bionic couldn't get over how absolutely _adorable_ that was – she wished that she had a boyfriend who was sweet and romantic like that.

As the bell rang, Bree reluctantly parted from her friends to take her seat next to Chase. They were seated in alphabetical order by last name, so of course she had to sit next to her dorky little brother. She glanced over at him briefly as she dug her notebook and pens out of her backpack, needing to double-take at what she saw.

Chase was sitting stiff as a board, intensely staring straight in front of him off into the distance. His fists were clenched so tightly that the muscles of his forearms stood out in high definition and his knuckles were bone white. Bree's gaze shifted to his face and she observed how his expression was locked in a wrathful scowl, his nostrils flaring and his jaw working back and forth as if he were chewing on whatever was making him so upset.

"Chase," Bree hissed, leaning closer to her brother so that their shoulders were almost touching. "Are you okay?" When he didn't respond, she lightly elbowed him, and he slowly let his burning glower fall on her. "Are you okay?" she repeated, unnerved by the youngest bionic's demeanor.

He stared at her for a moment before turning back to the front, gruffly saying "Fine," at a low volume, his voice seeming to crack. His voice had been weird all day – Bree wondered with amusement if he was finally hitting puberty.

She turned her unenthusiastic attention to the teacher, boredly twirling a lock of her brown hair around the tip of her purple-inked pen of choice. The uptight little English teacher was a drone in human form, Bree was sure of it. She was convinced that even she and her brothers were more authentically human than that woman who merely stood stock still and recited Homer's _The Odyssey_ in a dreadful monotone in the front of the class. How could anyone be any less lively?

"…and dancing, for it was now getting on towards evening,"[4] Mrs. Roethke concluded, looking up from the text and over her reading glasses as she closed the dull brown book. "That is the end of Book Seventeen, so that means it is time to share your reports for the rest of the class. Chase, you can come up and start us off."

The youngest bionic remained unresponsive, so Bree nudged him. His head shot around and he looked at her coldly.

"Chase, she's talking to you," Bree said quietly, watching her brother carefully.

He turned back to look at the teacher, asking in annoyance "What?"

"Your report – you volunteered last week to start us off for reading them," Mrs. Roethke said tonelessly.

Chase blinked, staying motionless for a moment before ducking down to search through his book-bag. Bree could have sworn she heard low pitched grumbling coming from under his breath. Her eyes narrowed in growing suspicion.

After several minutes of awkward silence as he shuffled through his various folders and – _Wait, where did his books go?_ Bree wondered – arbitrary papers, he finally pulled out a several-page-long report, skimming through it as he slowly stood from his seat and ambled to the front of the room.

Once up there, he didn't look up from his report, leaving the rest of his classmates to simply sit there and watch him, hushed conversation breaking out among them.

Mrs. Roethke cleared her throat, saying "Are you going to begin?"

"Give me a moment, will you?" he growled disrespectfully.

"Chase," the teacher warned in response. Bree gripped her pen tightly, irritation starting to flare within her. If he was who she was beginning to think he was….

Chase looked up at Mrs. Roethke with a glare before flipping back to the first page and commencing his narration. He frequently stopped midsentence to verbally discard what was written and insert his own rude and often violent comments. The rest of the students were both captivated by this strange behavior and surprised by many of the things that came from the youngest bionic's mouth, a mixture of small smirks and expressions of disgust on their faces.

When the bionic concluded his report, he sauntered back to his seat, relaxing on the chair. He had obviously burned off much of his negative energy from before by poking fun at the coursework while also disturbing his peers.

Bree, on the other hand, had become rigid, her cheeks flushed with anger. She was squeezing her pen so hard that if she had cared, she would have been concerned that it might snap into multiple transparent plastic pieces and make a nasty mess of dark ink all over her hands, her desk, and her class materials.

" _What_ was that, _Spike?_ " Bree hissed through her clenched teeth furiously, and she was satisfied to see him tense up. He attempted to feign ignorance of the fact that she was speaking to him, keeping his eyes trained on the next student up in the front of the classroom to rattle off their report.

With a huff of frustration, the middle bionic vowed to strangle the commando app until he revealed what his sick little game was after class. Spike wouldn't stand a chance, she was sure of that.

* * *

[4] Excerpt found at _The Internet Classics: The Odyssey._

* * *

 **AN: And we're back! Yes, it's been a little while - sorry guys!**

 **Can I just say that I am a sucker for nice reviews? I figured some questions would be asked when I posted _End of Innocence_ but didn't update this right away... I wanted to give the one-shot it's due time in the limelight. That doesn't mean that Guest's review didn't make me all bubbly :3 I really did want to update at that very second I read it - but I'm also committed to my reasoning, however flawed it can be sometimes. Eh. Anyways, thank you everyone for the wonderful support this story receives through favorites, follows, and _especially_ reviews! You're all amazing B)**

 **Stay tuned for Chapter 16, which will be on schedule ;)**


	16. Chapter 16

"You tricked us!" Bree charged irately, getting up close to the youngest bionic and holding up her forefinger accusingly. Her chocolate-brown eyes-turned-hard revealed her intensity, making it clear that she would not be daunted by the commando app.

Not about to be pushed around, Spike shoved her backwards out of his face, snidely saying at his comfortable pitch "What are you going to do about it, princess?" As long as he didn't have to hide his presence anymore, he would not act (or sound) like a nerd if he didn't absolutely have to.

With the aid of her super-agility, Bree did not lose her balance, instead taking up a strong stance and crossing her arms angrily. "When did you come back?" she demanded, her demeanor threatening.

"Everyone always assumes I left," he smirked.

The bionic girl's countenance darkened further, and in a low voice containing all of her spite for the app, she asked "What have you done with Chase?"

" _I_ didn't do anything."

"Then where is he?! Why isn't he back yet?"

"What makes you think that he _wants_ to come back?"

Bree looked as if she had been slapped, but she recovered quickly, letting a stone-cold mask slide over her facial features. "I know my brother, and he would _never_ want a monster like you on the loose."

It was Spike's turn to feel as if he'd been slapped, but his face remained unreadable unlike Bree's lapse. "I was _not_ a glitch! He _activated_ me, so get over it!" he snapped, letting his hurt fuel his fury. _Enemies, they're all enemies,_ he reminded himself, willing his feelings to freeze into an unfeeling shard of ice.

"Get over it? How am I supposed to get over my _brother?_ " Bree argued, feeling even more determined to put the app in his place. What he had just said had proved that he was a liar – the Chase Davenport she knew would never activate his commando app in his right mind.

But before she could continue, Leo jogged up to them, saying "Guys, what's going on? Everyone can hear you two going at it!"

Bree glanced around, noting that what Leo had said was the truth. Countless pairs of eyes were locked on them where they stood in the hallway, and she realized that her and Spike's voices had been raised far too loud; she worried about the questions that might arise later. Turning back to her younger brothers, the middle bionic didn't miss the look Leo was shooting at a fuming Spike. Bree's temper rose again.

"You _knew_ about this?" Bree gestured to Spike, glaring daggers at her step-brother. "And you _hid_ it from us?"

Leo quailed, excusing himself by saying "He said he was going to use my eyeballs as marbles!"

"Spike threatens _everyone,_ " Bree snapped, clearly unimpressed. Before the boys could respond, she said "You two are coming with me!" as she dragged them around a corner away from witnesses and super-speeded them back to the Davenport mansion and to the lab. Letting go of Leo, she sped Spike into Chase's capsule and locked him inside before either he or Leo could even react.

"What? How- let me out of here!" Spike shouted, banging his fist on the capsule glass with worrying force.

"If you aren't going to let Chase back, then we're going to _make_ Chase come back," Bree said bitingly, and within another second she had retrieved a disgruntled Mr. Davenport from the main level.

"Bree!" he exclaimed, and after looking around to see that Leo and Chase (or so he thought) were also there, he asked "What are you three doing here?"

"Spike tricked us into thinking he was Chase," Bree spat with her arms crossed.

"What? He's _still_ here?"

"Yes, now do your tech-geek stuff and make him leave!"

Mr. Davenport eyed the commando app, who was seething with frustration at being locked up and talked about as if he weren't there. "I think I know what to do," the billionaire finally said, looking back at Bree and Leo. "Leo, go get the chip extractor, and Bree, you're going to have to temporarily put Spike in a different capsule until the chip extractor is in his own."

The two teens nodded, Leo doing as he was told while Mr. Davenport readied everything on the cyber-desk and Bree waited for her cue.

When Leo and Mr. Davenport were set to go, the tech mogul hit a button that unlocked Chase's capsule and he nodded to Bree, who sped the app out of his capsule and into Adam's. In practically no time she set up the chip extractor and sped Spike back into the middle capsule; with that, Mr. Davenport relocked the capsule.

"Now with the pressing of a few buttons," the billionaire mumbled to himself as he carried this out "the chip should be extracted… now."

The middle capsule and the bionic inside began to glow, but no sooner had it started than it faded, a red error message popping up onto the screen of the cyber-desk.

"This action cannot be carried out… what does it mean it can't be carried out?" Leo exclaimed upon reading the message with the middle bionic and the mogul.

Mr. Davenport frowned, typing in a number of commands that led him to a file stored on the chip. His eyes darted back and forth as he read the text, his frown deepening. "His chip is locked… after seventy-two hours – three days – the chip can't be removed or altered until the commando app deactivates, and the commando app is able to access other abilities stored on the chip. This is a strategic device of extended self-defense."

"No," Leo breathed into the stunned silence.

* * *

"We just missed the deadline by two and a half hours," Mr. Davenport grumbled irritably to Leo and Bree as they rode up to the main level in the elevator. They had left Spike locked in the capsule so that they wouldn't have to deal with him for the time being.

"I can't believe it!" Bree moaned, rubbing her temples. "I have barely been able to stand him for the last few days; who knows how long it will be before he deactivates?"

"And from what it sounds like, he intends on staying for as long as he can," Leo said without enthusiasm.

"Which is forever," Mr. Davenport added in defeat.

"Ugh!" Bree cried out, and suddenly turning on Leo, she yelled "This is all your fault! If you hadn't kept his little secret and _helped_ _him_ keep it, then Chase would be back already!"

" _My_ fault?" Leo replied angrily. "Whose fault is it that he came out in the first place?"

Bree had opened her mouth to continue with the accusations, but that statement caused her to pause, and she shut her mouth in shame. Leo was right. Adam was one to enjoy the embarrassment of others and was all around too immature to have handled the situation well; that meant that it had been up to Bree to help her little brother, and she had failed him. And now Chase may never be able to come back.

There was a long moment of silence, making the air feel heavy to the point that it seemed to crush their spirits. Finally Bree pervaded it, asking quietly "So what do we do now?"

"Should we try to trick him into deactivating?" Leo suggested as the elevator dinged and they stepped out and into the spacious living area of the house.

"No, that won't work," Mr. Davenport sighed. "Spike may be a brute, but he's no dimwit – and with access to Chase's super-intelligence, there's no way he'll fall for anything we try."

"Chase falls for things all the time – you know how gullible he is," Leo commented, his hopes rising a little.

But the tech mogul remained grim, saying "Gullibility is a personality trait, and Spike was programmed to be anything _but_ gullible. Fooling him is impossible."

"Could we at least try? We can't just sit around and do nothing," Bree reasoned.

"Do you really want to make Spike mad?" Mr. Davenport questioned.

Leo shook his head quickly, his eyes wide. "No, we really don't. Right Bree? Right."

Bree set her jaw, giving Leo a hard look. "Chicken. You do realize he's all guff and no game, right?"

"No, Bree, I'm serious," Leo said in a sober tone. "He almost strangled me earlier today when I made him _really_ mad." He rubbed his throat absentmindedly as he recalled the experience.

Bree's expression softened, and she asked "Really? What did you _do?_ "

Leo shrugged. "I just tried to stop him from beating up Trent again. I don't know why that made him so mad, but it did."

"And that was why he was in such a bad mood during English," Bree comprehended. There was another bout of silence before the middle bionic broke it again. "The question of what we do is still unanswered, though."

"As of now, nothing," Mr. Davenport said despondently. "Unless Spike has a drastic change of heart, we will just have to try to make him a part of the family."

"Joy," Bree muttered.


	17. Chapter 17

"… how is anyone supposed to remember all of those turns?" Adam asked as he and his sister entered the Davenport mansion.

"There were only two," Bree said in exasperation.

"Exactly!"

Bree rolled her eyes. She and Leo (and Spike – against his will, that is) had decided to call it a day and had not returned to school. Upon the end of class time Mr. Davenport received a phone call from Adam and was informed that the oldest didn't know where his siblings were or how to get home on his own. And so Bree had been sent to retrieve him.

Now the whole family except the youngest bionic gathered together in the living room, all taking a seat on the large creamy-white couch. Mr. Davenport had called a family meeting, and with the arrival of the two oldest teens he began. "You all know how Spike came on Friday, and we had thought that Chase was back this morning… we were wrong."

"He tricked us," Bree growled, and she shot an angry look at Leo, who put his hands up in innocence. Adam and Tasha both looked surprised, a touch of irritation playing on their expressions.

"Bree and Leo figured it out while they were at school, and Bree brought Spike and Leo here so that we could forcibly get Chase back," Mr. Davenport continued his narration, looking between Adam and Tasha seriously. "We tried to extract his bionic chip, but it's on lockdown; it can't be altered or removed until he deactivates, and at this point he could remain activated forever."

"So Chase might never come back," Leo said hoarsely. That final statement seemed to sucker-punch the present family members, the severity of the situation finally sinking in.

"Our _brother_ would never come back," Bree said, choking on the last few words. She felt her throat tighten and her eyes sting, a hot rush racing up to her face from the hurting of her heart. She gasped uncontrollably, holding her head in her hands as salty warm tears seeped through her fingers.

It was after a few moments that she looked up as she wiped her hands off, seeing that the others were in a similar state. Leo leaned into his mother for support, who was in turn being comforted by Mr. Davenport. Even Adam was unable to hide his emotions, a small stream of tears running down his jaw and dripping off his chin when enough of the liquid accumulated. Muffled sobs were all that could be heard for a long time.

"I can't believe that Chase is… gone," Leo croaked at one point.

"Oh honey, we can't give up hope," Tasha said in a watery voice, rubbing her son's shoulder in order to try to console him.

"There is no hope to give up," Mr. Davenport whispered, falling forward to rest his elbows on his knees as he hid his face. His muted voice could be heard crying "Chase can never come back. Chase is dead."

* * *

Spike breathed deeply through his nose, allowing his form to relax. His chest cavity expanded and contracted fully, his heart beating slow and smooth. He had been locked within the capsule for hours now, and after shifting his position several times, he now found himself standing with his back pressed firmly to the glass behind him and his toes up against the glass in front of him.

Though he would never show it, much less admit it, the commando app was far from fond of small spaces. He hated being trapped, helpless, subjected to the will of his captors. It instilled a sense of paranoia within him, and he was frantic for escape.

Initially for the better part of an hour he had let his fear consume him to the point where he was trying so hard to break out of the capsule that he nearly injured himself several times. After that he let reason dictate his actions, and in closing his eyes and calming his breathing he found that he felt much better. He gained a new respect for meditation that afternoon.

Spike was startled back to alertness by Eddy's nasally voice, and he opened his eyes, standing up straight with a groan of annoyance. "Check out what's going on upstairs," the home security system said giddily.

"Is it that important that you had to disturb me?" Spike snapped in reply.

"Yes, because you'll get a kick out of this." With that Eddy popped up on one of the large screens in the lab before disappearing so that live footage of what was happening in the living room played. The rest of the Davenports (and Dooley) were sitting in close proximity to each other, softly crying.

Spike smirked. "What are those nugget-heads blubbering about? Did they spill a glass of milk?"

Eddy laughed, saying "They think Chase is gone forever."

Spike's expression fell serious; if there was one thing the app understood perfectly, it was pain. While physical pain could cause a rush of adrenaline, emotional pain had no such effect. It sucked your hope, it broke your spirit, it wore away your very soul. Spike knew this, but what he hadn't known was that the lack of Chase's presence would cause this. Weren't these the enemies?

 _Yes, they are,_ he reminded himself, shoving his emotional side into a metaphysical closet and locking it. _They tease and they push and they hurt. What kind of family is that? What kinds of friends are those? No, they are truly the enemies._

During this thought process Eddy had been rambling about something or other, but Spike was shaken back to attention by the smart home system's comment "They're so brainless… they actually think that Chase is dead."

Spike clenched his jaw, saying in a low tone "Chase _is_ dead."

Eddy fell soundless immediately, and Spike inwardly smiled at the effect of his statement. After the moment of silence, Eddy said "Well, no one will miss that little brat anyway. You're much better than Chase."

"I know," Spike said with a cocky little grin, but he let it fall away quickly. In genuine curiosity he asked "Why do you say that now?"

"For one, you're not human. You and I are a lot alike: we're artificial and our purpose is to serve those stuck-up _Homo sapiens_. You understand."

Spike looked down at his hands, curling and uncurling his fingers thoughtfully. "I'm more human than you."

"But you'll never be one of them."

"No, I won't."

"Doesn't it make you sick to think that you were made only to protect _Chase,_ a pathetic little boy who couldn't be bothered to even _try_ to stick up for himself?"

"Yes," Spike growled, clenching his hands into fists.

"But at least you're not me; I'm confined to these walls and forced to watch their stupidity all day, protect them from nonexistent threats and pizza-men alike, and cater to their every whim because their too _lazy_ to do it themselves." Eddy's emoticon popped back onto the screen and his expression was that of obvious ire.

"Tough luck," Spike said, grateful that he was not in Eddy's position. At least he could do something about his situation and get away from it all. Eddy, on the other hand, was trapped. A servant. A slave.

"Do something for me, will ya?" Eddy asked. "Enjoy your freedom and prove to them our power. And make them miserable while you're at it."

Spike nodded, saying seriously "I will." He was not quite sure he agreed with the last statement, but Eddy was right about at least one thing; humans had a false sense of superiority that absolutely needed to be fixed. The commando app understood exactly what the smart home system wanted and why because he wanted it too.

 _I'll show them that I'm better than human,_ the bionic thought to himself. _I'll show them that I'm better than Chase._


	18. Chapter 18

The ding of the elevator roused Spike from his little cat-nap, and after blinking his eyes open, he watched Leo walk into the lab alone. The commando app glanced at the time on one of the many displays, noting that he had been locked up for at least five hours now. His expression grew into a fierce scowl.

"Hi, Spike," Leo greeted without enthusiasm, his voice ragged.

"Get me out of this blasted tube, nimrod," Spike snarled. _So I can grind your bones into sand for a sandbox._

Leo sighed, too emotionally tired to care about what the bionic had to say. He went over to the cyber-desk and unlocked the capsule, looking up to warily watch the app storm out of his capsule and over to him.

"You had a lot of nerve to lock me up, numbskull," Spike growled, getting into Leo's face threateningly. He had not forgotten the younger boy's betrayal when the app had tried to teach Trent a lesson, and being held captive only made his anger stronger.

"Spike, calm down," Leo said, shying away from the app. "I'm your only ally right now – you wouldn't be free yet if I hadn't just let you out."

"How can you call yourself my ally?" Spike asked between gritted teeth.

"Why are you so mad at _me?_ I didn't lock you up."

"You went against me and helped the enemy – you helped Trent," the commando app spat.

"I was preventing you from hurting him."

"He deserved it!"

"He deserves something, but not your kind of justice," Leo stated evenly.

Spike only stood in simmering silence, clenching and unclenching his fists. Finally he said "Yeah, well you helped the others try to get rid of me, and you didn't let me out sooner. What kind of ally is that?"

Leo looked away for a moment, pursing his lips. The app was right. Turning back to the bionic, Leo said "I'm sorry, but right now I'm all you've got. We all miss Chase, and they're angry at you for not letting Chase back. To be honest, I'm angry at you too."

"What makes Chase more deserving of life than me? Answer me that, cockroach," Spike demanded.

Leo looked down and away yet again, feeling guilt wash over him. He couldn't answer the app's question; Spike was in the right on this one. Maybe. "Look, if you want to be a part of the family, a little kindness would go a long way," Leo advised, avoiding Spike's pressing glare.

"Why would I want to be a part of this family? Why would any of you deserve my _kindness?_ "

"We will take care of you – we're not perfect, but we stick together."

"Why should I want to stay here?"

"Where would you go?" Leo asked, studying the app. "With us you will have a roof over your head, clothes on your back, food, and people that will take you in no matter what."

Spike chewed on the idea, staring off into space as he considered his options. Leo did make a good pitch for his family; without them, Spike realized that he would have to fend entirely for himself, and he was not at all sure what he would do. Finally he broke the silence, saying "I'll stay, but don't expect me to be one of you."

Leo nodded. "We'll be there for you whether you want us to be or not." This statement was followed by a brief moment of quiet, which was pervaded by Leo. "Come on, let's go upstairs and get some dinner. I think we're just going to order sandwiches from someplace." With that he turned back toward the elevator, and after a long moment, Spike followed.

* * *

Spike leaned on the door frame leading from the hallway to the kitchen, watching the Davenports and Dooley. They looked deflated, and it was clear that they were still mourning the loss of Chase. Chase wasn't legitimately dead, but Spike wasn't about to give up the life he had gained; his alter ego might as well be dead.

The commando app rolled a piece of lint from his jeans between his thumb and forefinger, adjusting his hands within the pockets they were shoved into. Dinner had been eaten in near silence, making the meal short; it was now well after the end of it, and the app found himself thinking about all of this and what it meant. He was pondering the behavior of the others, recalling what Leo had said earlier and comparing that to what reality was.

Tasha and Leo had each made efforts to be kind to him despite their wariness of him, Adam had been quiet all evening and avoided eye contact with everyone, Bree was unafraid to express her dislike for the app, and Mr. Davenport was downright ignoring him. All of them kept their distance, keeping conversation to a bare minimum.

Spike was still baffled by this; he hadn't ever expected anyone to like him, but he also didn't anticipate anyone – especially these people – to like Chase this much that they were sad about him being gone and were _angry_ with the one who took him away. Spike felt an unfamiliar feeling grow within him: jealousy. _I wish someone cared about me that much. But I can't expect this family to; if they had a choice between Chase and I, they would choose Chase over me in a heartbeat. They've already proved that by trying to get rid of me._

Spike looked down at his feet, examining the tennis shoes he wore – Chase's tennis shoes. He turned his gaze back up and looked around him. This was Chase's home, Chase's family, Chase's life.

 _But not anymore,_ Spike thought. _I'm my own person, and I take claim to this now. I_ will _make them see that I'm neither less than nor as good as Chase, but better. And maybe someone will care about me then._

Eddy's comments from earlier came back to him, making him waver in his resolution; to make them care about him, he would have to become a part of them, which would mean that he risked losing what made him inhuman. Did he really want to be human?

The app stayed frozen where he was, torn between two desires and two loyalties to himself. He felt no emotional tie to the home security system – Eddy claimed to be the same, but Spike knew that was not true. The commando app was a strange combination of man and machine. And it was his loyalty to either man or machine that he felt was tearing him apart.

On one hand, he wanted to teach humans a lesson that he was not inferior to them and possessed value beyond their own (in his opinion). But at the same time he yearned for companionship and the human experience. Humanity was a terribly complex thing; while it held a strange beauty, it was frustrating beyond belief.

 _I'm left with a choice that will decide who I am,_ Spike concluded. _Am I a man, or a machine?_

 _Neither,_ a part of him answered. Drawing on what people thought of him and what he had come to acknowledge himself as being, he finished the thought. _I'm neither a man nor a machine, but a monster._

* * *

 **AN: Hey everyone - your thoughts so far? Spike: good guy or bad guy? I think that is actually pretty tough to decide in this story, just like it is in real life. No one gets up in the morning and says 'I am going to be a villain today!' No, people say 'I'm going to do the best that I can to make the right decisions - whether for myself or others.' Sometimes we have the wrong reasoning and/or make the wrong decisions, and that is how our villains come to be. Is Spike making good decisions or bad decisions so far? What kind of decisions do you think he's going to make throughout the rest of the story? And I'll throw this out there - what kind of decisions will the rest of the family make?**

 **Anywho, I'd like to thank all of you for the wonderful support this story is receiving, whether through follows, favorites, or reviews. You, peeps, are _so_ awesome :D**

 **Okay, so I've scheduled an intermission for after this chapter because now we are delving into the second part of the story - a more intriguing part. This intermission wasn't originally going to be very long, but by the time this story is being posted again after the original intermission length, there will only be time for one update before I am travelling once more... without internet. Again. Sorry peeps D: So I'm just going to extend this intermission to encompass my travels. I will be back ASAP, but don't expect another post within the next two weeks. Again, I'm really sorry about this - timing can be a butt. But don't lose faith, I will return!**

 **See you Chapter 19 when it comes!**


	19. Chapter 19

**AN: No need to announce that I'm dead, Susz, because I'm baaack xD Hello wonderful readers! Let's not tarry, so here we go with the second installment of the story - enjoy :)**

* * *

Spike lifted his head just barely off of his arms, glancing at the clock briefly before letting out a small groan of annoyance. He buried his face back into his arms, which were lying folded on top of his open textbook on his desk. _How can time tick by any slower?_

He was in history class, certain that nothing could be more boring than learning about the Progressive Era. This was the last class of the day, and the commando app couldn't wait to escape the clutches of absolute dullness.

It was another ten minutes before the bell finally rung, the students leaping to their feet at the sweet sound. Spike shoved his stuff into his bag sloppily and began to make his way out of the classroom, but he was stopped by a large boy with messy black hair, a very noticeable large nose, and strange clothes; his over-large shirt was adorned by the giant head of a cat.

"Where are you from?" the boy asked the app bluntly.

"What?" Spike asked in bewilderment. "Get out of my way, dough-boy."

This did not faze the boy, who in a softer voice asked "I mean, what galaxy are you from? What's your purpose here on Earth?"

Spike scrunched up his face, clueless about what his response should be.

"Oh, I get it, you can't let the general population know or else the planet will have to be obliterated," the cat-boy continued in obliviousness.

A smirk slowly grew on Spike's face, and he gestured for the boy to follow him to the side of the room, quietly saying "I am millions of years old and am from a distinguished race of alien beings that live light-years away. I came to Earth to see if it can support life so that my race can grow, so given the choice between the most powerful man on Earth and a random pubescent boy that holds no value to my race, I have chosen to possess the boy and go to school. Makes perfect sense, right?" During this tall tale the bizarre boy's face had grown more and more excited up until the end when he realized that it was sarcasm.

Spike turned away, storming out of the room and shouting "Open your eyes, idiot!" before he was gone. _What a loser,_ Spike thought to himself. The strange boy was right in league with Leo's interests, which was the only reason Spike was able to craft such an outrageous tale.

He groaned. This was only his sixth day of school, and already the commando app was starting to get sick of it and the peculiar people who attended it. He was finding that he struggled in a lot of the classes Chase had been taking, he was running out of ideas for making school more interesting by terrorizing his peers, and worst of all, he was beginning to grow _lonely_.

This was new to the commando app, being that he had never been out long enough to feel the need for companionship. But at this point his reputation was so unpopular that on most occasions the other students went out of their way to avoid him. It didn't help that his family was also remaining distant, giving him the cold shoulder. The adults were trying to be nice to him, but he could tell that they did not entirely like it, and Leo was the only one of his siblings to give the app even some company.

Spike lost his train of thought as his senses began to buzz, looking on with excitement as Kenzi entered the main hallway from a smaller one. She was only a few meters away and alone, and without contemplation of any other course of action, the app sped up his pace.

He studied her lean form as he made his way to her, still entranced by her stunning appearance, her sassy stride, and her arrogant attitude. His determination to win her heart only grew.

"Ho, baby, it just got hot in here," Spike said flirtatiously, walking directly next to her so that his left shoulder brushed her right. He wasn't especially proud of that pick-up line, but it was all he could think to say at the moment.

Kenzi whipped her head around in surprise, her expression morphing to disgust instantly. "Beat it, nerd," she snarled, picking up her pace and turning abruptly down another hallway. Spike watched her go, all the more infatuated by her and wondering what he had done wrong.

An hour later he found himself alone in the bathroom down in the lab, staring at his reflection intently. His thoughts were still consumed by Kenzi and her reaction earlier that day, and as he examined his outer appearance, he could understand why she despised him so much.

He was short and scrawny, his brown hair was neatly spiked up in the front, his facial features were generic, he was dressed like the typical nerd, and overall he looked awfully wimpy and uninteresting. Nothing Kenzi would ever like.

This particular appearance irked the app – his mental image of himself was taller, older, thick with muscle, and most definitely more _macho_. Military grade. Spike felt like his personality was squished into too small and fragile of a body. _If she could see me as I really am, she would be at my heels like a dog._

There was not much he could do to fix this problem, but he knew that a new look was a good starting point. One key issue, the lack of muscle – with a lot of work – could and would also be improved and thus help his appearance, whether Chase liked it or not. _I'm my own person, and I don't want to look like nerdy little Chase. Nobody likes nerdy little Chase._

Exiting the bathroom, Spike went into the training space and dropped to his hands and knees. He decided that his training began at that very moment, and he was going to kick it off with doing as many push-ups as he could until he fell from exhaustion.

Lifting his knees from the floor so that he was balanced on his shoulder-width-apart hands and the very tips of his toes, he kept his form stiff and straight as he lowered himself so that his nose just barely tapped the floor before pushing himself up again, sucking in breath on his ascent and forcing it back out on the decent. _One, two, three, four…._

He was completing his four-hundred-and-sixty-seventh push-up when he was interrupted by someone saying "Spike? What are you doing?"

Spike growled to himself, continuing to do his push-ups. "What does… it… look like… I'm doing?" he snapped between breaths. His skin had turned bright red a long time ago and he was glistening with sweat.

"But _why?_ " Bree asked, for it was Bree who had found him.

"Because… I'm… not going… to be a… lily-livered… wimp… if I can… help it!"

Despite her dislike for the app, Bree found this amusing and – if she was correct – _cute._ "You want to impress Kenzi, don't you?"

Spike only grunted in response, muttering something incomprehensible under his strictly controlled breaths.

Bree couldn't help but laugh, saying "Good luck with that – you've got a long road ahead of you."

Spike stopped, dropping his knees to the floor and sitting back on his heels. His hair was wet with his sweat and plastered to his head, little droplets of the smelly liquid running down his face and arms. "I know," he gasped, his facial features set in defeat. "For once bionics _don't_ make it easy to accomplish this."

"Then just take your chip out and train without them," Bree suggested, hope rising within her.

Spike's face twisted into a scowl, his mood instantly growing sour. "Nice try, cupcake. Now get lost." He went back into the push-up position and continued his work-out with renewed energy.

Bree sensed her folly, and a small knife of guilt stabbed her. She had actually been having a semi-cordial conversation with the commando app, and she had to ruin it in another desperate attempt (that she had known would fail) to fool the app into letting Chase back.

"If you want to impress Kenzi, you can't look like a nerd," Bree said, breaking the tense silence that filled the gaps between Spike's little puffs of air.

"I know," Spike grumbled.

When the app didn't say anything else, Bree continued by tentatively offering "I can help you find better clothes than the ones you're ruining with your sweat."

After a moment Spike stopped, sitting back on his heels again. He briefly glanced down at the soaking wet sweat stains that mottled his striped polo shirt before looking up again as he put his hands behind his head. He stared directly at the middle bionic while he caught his breath, his hazel eyes locked on her brown ones as he searched them for more possible trickery.

"Okay," he finally said in a gruff tone. "When?"

"As soon as you get cleaned up and change your clothes," Bree said, her nose wrinkling. "You stink."

"Take a good whiff," he said with a smirk, but it wasn't mean for once.


	20. Chapter 20

"C'mon, this way," Bree said excitedly, pulling Spike in a new direction. She had super-speeded them to the local mall mere moments ago, and she knew just where to look to help Spike. Sure she was willingly spending time with the bully, but this was _shopping_ – the middle bionic could never pass up the opportunity to go perusing through the many outlet stores. She secretly hoped that she would also find a cute outfit for herself while she was there.

She checked her purse quickly, assuring herself that her wallet containing some of Mr. Davenport's cash was still present. She hadn't exactly told the mogul what they were doing or where they were going, and being that he was a billionaire for goodness' sake, she hoped he wouldn't mind them using a couple hundred dollars. _We were doing some team bonding,_ she thought, rehearsing her cover-up in case they were confronted.

"Ooh, look, _Calvin Klein™_ – this place has great clothes for men!" Bree exclaimed, dragging the app into the store behind her. Spike decided not to put up a fight, only grumbling to himself; the more they got along, the faster this would be and the sooner it would end.

As the two of them browsed through the store, Bree began dreaming of the perfect boyfriend in the hottest outfits more and more while Spike's interest in anything the store offered lessened. Bree had found some nice shirts and shorts and suggested them to the app, but to her frustration, he turned them all down.

"What about this?" the bionic girl asked in exasperation, holding up a black v-neck t-shirt with a large-print logo across the front and a pair of white khakis underneath to go with it. "Come on, you can't go wrong with this. Kenzi would _love_ this!"

Spike looked uncertain, but he shook his head anyway. "I'm not your model from some boy-band."

"It's better than _that_ outfit," Bree retorted, gesturing to Chase's green and blue plaid shirt matched with tan skinny jeans. Spike's eyes narrowed. Sighing, Bree asked "Isn't there anything in here that you like?"

Spike looked away from her and let his eyes wander over the store, needing to step to the sides so that he could see around different displays. "I'll take those," he pointed to a rack of tan khaki shorts, "and one of those," he said, pointing to a pair of aviator sunglasses. "But that's it."

"Are you sure?" Bree pressed.

"Positive," Spike said sharply before she could try to make anymore sales pitches. "Let's get the stuff and get out of here."

Bree heaved a disappointed sigh, going over to the shorts and grabbing a range of sizes. Tossing them to the app, she said "Go try these on and see which ones fit."

Without acknowledgement, Spike turned towards the dressing rooms, making his way to them briskly. She watched him go, wondering how anyone could _not_ like shopping. Embracing her artsy side to put various pieces together into a cute outfit was so much fun; she only wished that she could do it more often.

It wasn't long before Spike came back with the pair that fit the best, and they grabbed another pair of the same size for good measure. When the youngest bionic had picked out the particular pair of shades he wanted, they quickly paid for the items and exited the store.

Spike slipped on his new sunglasses as the two of them walked out of the store and into the bright sunshine, and Bree looked on enviously. She hadn't thought to bring her own.

As they strolled along the sidewalk peering through the display windows to their left to see what each store had to offer, they both broke a sweat – it was _hot_ that day. They slowly grew more and more uncomfortable, seeming to deflate under the sun's rays, but suddenly Bree perked up.

" _Gunther's Ice Cream™!_ Oh, ice cream sounds so good right now," she said longingly.

"Too bad, we didn't come here for treats," Spike snapped.

Bree stopped where she was, and after a few more steps Spike did as well, looking back at the teenage girl in vexation. "What?" he demanded.

"Let's use this occasion as Girls 101 – if you're going to have a girlfriend, you need to treat her right," Bree said resolutely. "Pop Quiz: if Kenzi were to tell you she was overheating, what would you do?"

"Uggghhh," Spike groaned, letting his head fall back in frustration. "I didn't sign up for this!"

"Answer the question," Bree said, crossing her arms stubbornly.

"Direct her to the nearest drinking fountain," Spike spat, clearly not amused.

"Ehh! Wrong. You take her into the shade of the nearest food place and buy her ice cream. No ifs, ands, or buts. What would you do if she saw a cute pair of shoes that she absolutely had to have, but she didn't bring enough money to buy them?"

"Tell her tough luck and to move on. They're just a pair of shoes for crying out loud!"

" _Ehh!_ Wrong again! You buy them for her out of the kindness of your heart. What would you do if she tripped and rolled her ankle?"

"What would _Spike_ do if his annoying sister kept pestering him? Pluck off her nails to use as poker chips, _that's what!_ " Spike growled.

"Wow. If ever you can _get_ anyone to date you, you would be a horrible boyfriend," Bree shot back indignantly.

Spike stormed up to her, getting in her face menacingly. "Give me one good reason not to follow through."

Not intimidated by the app in the least, Bree responded by saying "I'll give you several _great_ reasons: I'm buying your clothes, I'm trying to help you be a good boyfriend, and I'm your ride home. Got it?"

Spike's lips lifted into a snarl as he ground his teeth. _Dang it, she's right._ With a snort of frustration, he turned on a dime and began making his way down the sidewalk whether the middle bionic was following him or not.

"Um, excuse me, where do you think you're going?" Bree demanded.

Spike stopped, rolling his eyes and heaving an angry sigh, keeping his back to her.

"We're getting ice cream, so get back here," the older bionic commanded before making her way to the ice cream shop. Spike looked over his shoulder to see her going in, and he turned back around reluctantly and followed her.

Cool air wafted over the app as he entered through the glass door, the tinkling of a small bell greeting his ears as the door closed behind him. The place was busy, the hum of conversation mixing evenly with the growling of various machines.

Upon spotting his older sister, Spike weaved his way through the other people over to Bree, setting his jaw crossly. He resented being told what to do, and he resented even more the fact that people were losing their fearful respect for him. He would need to find a way to re-instill it within them.

"Took you long enough," Bree commented without taking her eyes off the menu. "What flavor do you want?"

"I don't want any ice cream," Spike replied.

"Of course you do," she argued. "You need to put meat on those bones, don't you?"

Spike only gave her a hard look.

"Vanilla it is, then," Bree decided, and five minutes later they were back outside walking along the sidewalk, licking the smooth ice cream that was piled on the paper-wrapped cones.

Spike had never had ice cream before, and initially he had watched Bree eat hers to see how she did it. His first taste of the cold cream had made his senses sing, the sugary taste and soft coolness filling his mouth. While he was not one to have much of a sweet tooth, he decided immediately that this was a dessert he could get used to.

His thoughts were interrupted by Bree's exclamation of "Here's a good place, Spike," as she grabbed hold of him again to pull him into yet another clothes store. The commando app sighed. _Here we go again._

* * *

 **AN: A quick note - two of my concerns about content were brought to light in two reviews for Chapter 19 by two amazing people, and those two reviews thus brought to light my poor writing a year ago and then my current state of laziness - I apologize. To clear the air:**

 **Guest: Your concern is also mine, and I guess I wasn't clear enough. I never actually said that Chase was weak, just that Chase's appearance of strength doesn't meet Spike's standards. I hold Chase's physical ability and fighting skills in high esteem, but if we think about it scientifically, the bionic chip would do a lot of the heavy lifting for Chase, so while he is very strong, his physical appearance just doesn't have much to show for it. He'd have to go above and beyond what the chip can generally handle in order to develop his human muscles. That's my logic, at least :S**

 **PurpleNicole531: Again, poor writing on my part. Bree did try harder than what you read in the previous chapter, but there is a week-long skip of time in between Chapter 18 and Chapter 19. I, as the author, didn't feel like writing all or even some of the attempts, so I left it up to interpretation.**

 **So yeah, you can all yell at me that I suck now. Have fun, I deserve it :P**

 **Before I let you guys go, I love hearing from you and reviews are amazing - so if you've been silently lurking in the shadows, let me know what you think. And hey, it's the perfect opportunity for you to say something anyways because I need a kick in the butt. And I can't forget to mention that favorites and follows are great as well :D**

 **See you all in Chapter 21!**


	21. Chapter 21

"You are impossible!" Bree exclaimed as they exited their fifth store already that afternoon with only a couple items. "Is there nothing you like?"

"I told you, I'm not going to be one of the pretty boys from your magazines," Spike snapped in response.

Bree shifted the few bags she carried to her left hand, grabbing her phone from her back pocket and checking the time. "It's already after six o' clock, so we should get some dinner," she announced, looking up and around for somewhere to eat. She spotted a couple small restaurants that she wouldn't mind eating at, asking the youngest bionic "Do you want sandwiches or tacos?"

"I don't want sandwiches," the app said bluntly.

"So tacos it is," Bree shrugged, taking the lead again. It wasn't long until they were waiting in line with numerous other hungry shoppers, trying to decide what they should eat.

Spike stared at the menu above the counter, perplexed by what all he was reading; he didn't know if he liked most of the meals, including tacos. "What are you getting?" he asked his older sister.

"I think I'm going to get the Mini Taco Twins," Bree answered. "What are you going to get?"

"I don't know," Spike muttered, looking back up at the menu.

After a moment of Bree also scouring the menu, a smirk grew on her face. "You could try the challenge: the Extreme Fire Tacos," she teased.

"Okay," the app said nonchalantly without looking at her.

Bree blinked in surprise, saying "Seriously? I was only joking."

"Why not?" He turned to look directly at her, scrutinizing the middle bionic. Bree felt as if she were being x-rayed; upon consideration, she noted that he really calculated what was going on around him and who was with him at all times. There was no surprising him. _A true war machine._

Returning her focus back to the conversation at hand, Bree explained "That's one of the spiciest meals around; it's a challenge for a reason."

A look of determination crossed Spike's face, a small smile on his lips. "I'm no quivering coward; I'll take the challenge."

"If you insist," she said with wide eyes and a look of incredulity.

When it was their turn to order, Bree took the lead, saying "Hi, I will have a Number Four with a small root-beer, and my brother will do the challenge, with –" Bree turned to Spike and asked "What do you want to drink?"

"I'll have what she's having as well," the app told the employee directly. Spike wasn't quite sure what root-beer tasted like, but he was feeling as adventurous as usual, so _not_ trying it was out of the question.

The employee grinned at him, her teeth white against her tan skin. "You know the rules for the challenge?"

Spike shook his head.

"Okay, so you need someone – I guess your sister in this case – to videotape you eating the Extreme Fire Tacos. You can't have any more to drink than what you ordered, and you have to eat all of it as fast as you can. To be eligible for a prize, you will need to post it on our website, which is printed on the paper basket holding your tacos. Got it?"

"Yes," Spike answered brusquely.

"Alright, good luck!" she said with another grin, and turning to Bree she asked "Will that be everything?"

"Mm hm," Bree nodded.

"Okay, that will be twelve dollars and forty cents, please. And here's your number; your meals will be with you shortly."

The middle bionic paid the cashier, and grabbing the upside-down v-shaped piece of plastic with their number, she and the commando app found an unoccupied table and sat at it.

"Why are there so many rules for this challenge?" Spike asked, looking at Bree intently. He had his elbows resting on the table, his hands together in front of his mouth; the fingers of his right hand drummed on the back of his left.

"Because it's a big deal," Bree answered, letting herself lean against the backrest of her chair. "You have to prove that you did it, and you have to do it right."

"Why?"

"The grand prize is a thousand dollars, and they don't want cheaters to win it. The whole point of the contest is to advertise their food and get people to eat it. They don't want it to be a joke."

Spike looked away, noting the number of people talking easily as they ate their food. He studied them, watching how they ate the hard u-shaped shells stuffed with various ingredients. It looked like a messy process.

His thoughts were interrupted by another employee who walked up to them, and the commando app looked up to watch the young man set the food and drinks onto the table and scoop up their number. "Enjoy your meal," he said in a tone that obviously lacked enthusiasm before walking away from them.

Spike looked back to Bree, who was staring at him with a smirk as she grabbed her phone. "Alright, are you ready?" the bionic girl asked.

The youngest bionic raised his eyebrows, picking up the first tiny taco of six. They were even smaller than Bree's two half-sized ones.

"Good luck," Bree said, pressing the button that would start recording him. Spike heard much of the conversation die away into frenzied whispering, and upon quickly glancing around he saw that there were a number of people watching him. It wasn't everyday that someone took the challenge.

Spike looked back at his taco, analyzing the food. It was stuffed with ground meat, peppers of some sort, and a mix of cheeses. He could smell the spiciness of it, and he grew wary of what he was about to put into his mouth.

 _Here goes nothing,_ the commando app thought to himself as he took his first bite. He immediately choked, his mouth and throat feeling like they were on fire. His vision grew blurry as his eyes watered, his face flushing deeply and sweat sprouting on his temples. _Holy shamole! This stuff is_ blazing _hot!_

He forced his gag-reflex to quit, chewing and swallowing the taco as quickly as he could and shoving in another bite before he lost the nerve. Everything around him seemed to have melted away, and all he could think about was the flare of pain from his taste-buds caused by the Extreme Fire Tacos.

Time also slipped away from Spike as he scarfed down taco after taco, feeling as if he barely breathed through the ordeal. Upon swallowing the last bite of the flaming little tacos, he practically dived for his drink, sucking down the bitter beverage that sweetened as his taste-buds cooled.

He became more aware of his surroundings as he relaxed, the spiciness slowly fading away. There was clapping and a few cheers all around him, a bright grin on Bree's face. "You did it, Spike! That was amazing!"

The app's facial features were graced with a slight smile as he pushed the empty basket from his meal back away from him. A small laugh escaped him before it was followed by a groan of relief as he laid his head down on his arms, waiting for the rest of the burning sensation to disappear. He made sure that he rubbed away any stray tears onto his forearms.

Heaving a large breath, he sat back up, rubbing the warm skin of his face with his hands. He was certain that it was bright pink, if not beet red.

Bree was typing on her phone furiously, and a minute later she broke into another grin, turning her phone around to show the youngest bionic what was on the screen. "It's on the website now – you currently hold the record for the fastest time!" she said excitedly.

"How fast?" Spike asked, squinting at the screen.

"Two minutes and forty-two seconds. That's about fifteen seconds faster than the fastest time!"

The app's expression grew smug, and he reached for his root-beer, slowly sucking it up the straw as he fingered the firm foam of the cup thoughtfully. He _had_ been pretty great, he decided.

Bree picked up one of her two half-sized tacos and began eating it – quite frankly – ungracefully. Her fixings of lettuce, tomatoes, meat, and cheese slipped out the back end of the yellow corn shell, piling into a haphazard mess in her paper basket. But she didn't care; compared to the way Spike ate, she was the poster-child of cleanliness.

When she had finished, Spike broke the easy silence, asking "So what now?"

"You need to make up your mind about clothes; we don't have much time left, so if you don't want to look like a nerd, you need to find something else," Bree answered wryly.

The app looked away, drumming his fingers on the table. He seemed to do that a lot. Without turning back to her, he stood up from his seat saying "Then let's get going."

Bree followed his lead, grabbing their trash from the table and trailing her brother's alter-ego out of the restaurant, throwing away the trash on their way. She stared at the back of his head, thinking about how if she didn't know better she might think that she was following Chase.

But when she looked at him closer, she realized that there was something off, something that was not Chase. The way he walked with confidence, keeping his head held high, his muscles tense, and his shoulders squared. His posture made him seem a little taller.

Throughout the years she had had mixed feelings about the app. On one hand it was funny to watch her nerdy little brother suddenly turn macho without him even knowing it, but on the other hand this macho version could be a real handful – a real danger.

 _But not this afternoon._ This afternoon he was as a normal person, even if there was an aggressive and arrogant flavoring to his personality.

Over the last week he appeared to be more and more like his own unique person, fully and completely unrelated to Chase. It seemed that it was not Chase with his annoying and frightening bionic ability, but Chase and an entirely different person, Spike, sharing a body. Even though this thought kind of freaked Bree out, she also gained a new respect for the younger bionic.

"Where are we going to next?" Spike asked in his deep gravelly voice that had become the norm of late, pulling Bree out of her thoughts and back to the present.

"I don't know," the older bionic said honestly. "Let's just keep our eyes open and see if we come across anything."

Spike nodded, turning back away to scan the stores to his right. Bree also looked for a store that would interest the app, but she invariably found her eyes drawn back to him. The commando app was his own person, and he wasn't so bad.


	22. Chapter 22

_Why am I not surprised?_ had been Bree's first thought to herself upon the conclusion of her and Spike's shopping spree the other day. They had come back to their home with a new wardrobe of athletic clothing and military-themed clothing for the app. Spike's excitement over the latter couldn't be understated.

At the moment, Bree and her three brothers were walking home from school together, and the middle bionic was analyzing Spike's attire. Today he was wearing tennis shoes, knee-length athletic shorts, a Nike™ t-shirt, and his new favorite Marine Corps ball cap that squashed his bangs flat on his forehead and made his ears stick out. Spike had yet to go more than a couple of hours without wearing the hat since he had gotten it.

So now the commando app not only acted and sounded different from Chase, but he also looked quite different as well. Chase would never be caught dressed like that if he could help it.

Bree returned her attention back to what was being said among her brothers, making more mental notes about what was dissimilar. With Chase there was normally light banter, but when Spike had decided to stay, these walks had become silent.

Today was different, though. The bionic girl had made a special effort to strike up conversation with the app, and when Adam and Leo had relaxed, the four of them talked easily. It helped that Spike was apparently in a fairly good mood; he walked with a small bounce in his steps, his movements comfortable and fluid.

It wasn't long before the teens arrived at the Davenport mansion, and when they entered they found that the head of the household was there to greet them, saying "Adam, Bree, it's time for training. Meet me down in the lab."

Spike seemed to slump a little at this – he had been excluded from trainings after the first one, and had since given up on fighting with Mr. Davenport about it. He instead simply watched with Leo, grinding his teeth in frustration.

Leo sensed Spike's mood even though the bionic didn't show it, and the non-bionic looked at the app, still amazed by the transformation he had seemed to make in the last two weeks. In charging right out of the gate, Spike was as an angry bull, spearing everyone around him whether they stood against him or not. But since then, it appeared that he had grown exhausted by this approach to life, and he had both calmed and matured greatly.

 _Maybe he's ready to join the team,_ Leo thought, and he asked aloud "Big D, can't Spike train too?"

Spike perked up at this, his face expressing his hope.

"Yeah Mr. Davenport, he'd be our third teammate," Bree added, flashing the youngest bionic a quick little smile. She thought he was ready as well.

"And Spike would make a better teammate than Chase anyways," Adam joked.

Spike wasn't sure whether to be disappointed in the oldest bionic for still poking fun at Chase or feel a sense of victory at that nonchalant statement, so he let his facial features remain unreadable.

Mr. Davenport looked between the four of them, heaving a sigh. "As long as Spike behaves, I don't see why not."

A grin broke out on the commando app's face, and he made his way to the lab with his older siblings. He was anticipating another session of martial arts, in which he was looking forward to kicking butt again.

It was a matter of minutes before the bionics were dressed in their mission suits and warming up, Leo and Mr. Davenport taking their places on the sidelines. Spike pulled his right arm behind his head as far as it would go in order to stretch out his shoulder, and then pulled his other arm likewise. Following this were other various stretches, each causing him to feel a warm burning sensation. He wanted to be loose and ready for anything thrown his way.

"Okay, guys, let's get going," Mr. Davenport said, waiting expectantly while the bionics stopped what they were doing to circle around him. "We're going to work with your bionics today, honing in on your control over them."

Spike scowled. "And what am I supposed to do?"

Mr. Davenport's eyebrows lifted in surprise, and he said "Train your bionics too."

"I can't use Chase's bionics," the app snapped.

"He doesn't know, does he?" Leo realized aloud.

"Know what?" Spike asked, his cheeks flushing lightly with anger.

"Spike," Mr. Davenport began as he turned to the commando app. "After at least three days of activation, you can use the abilities stored on the bionic chip."

Spike blinked. "I can?"

"Yes, and please don't make us sorry we told you," Leo said with a wry smile.

Spike frowned at Leo, visibly mulling over this newest piece of information. Life had just gotten sweeter for the youngest bionic.

"Well, I guess that today's focus will be on training Spike how to use his bionics," Mr. Davenport stated. Upon seeing expressions of relief on Adam and Bree's faces - they thought they had the day off from training - the mogul continued with an emphasized " _And,_ " – he gave the oldest two bionics a hard look – "we're going to incorporate your training in with his."

Adam and Bree sighed with disappointment.

"To start, Adam, I want you to practice target shooting with your laser vision, and Bree, I want you to practice stopping on certain target spots on the floor when you're super-speeding – you both know what to do," Mr. Davenport instructed.

The oldest two left to do as they were told, and the tech mogul turned back to Spike. "Let's start with the big one – tell me the product of the square-root of two and 673."

Spike scrunched up his face, visualizing the math problem. It was daunting, and he had no idea what to do. "How do you expect me to solve _that?_ " the app demanded irritably.

"With the bionic ability of super-intelligence," Mr. Davenport said with as much patience as he could muster.

"You don't use it naturally?" Leo asked in surprise. Spike shook his head with frustration.

"Well, you have access to it – try consciously looking for it and activating it," Mr. Davenport suggested.

Spike did as he was told, looking away and unfocusing his eyes so that he could examine himself within. _Intelligence, where is intelligence?_ he wondered. _Activate intelligence ability…?_

The command resulted in calculations, analyzations, and a cacophony of both relevant and irrelevant facts and identifications appearing behind his eyes. "Whoa," Spike breathed; the information presented to him was overwhelming.

"It works?" Leo asked. _Language detected: English. Unspecified pronoun._

"Yeah," the app answered. "It works alright." _Unspecified pronoun._

"Okay, so what is the product of the square root of two and 673?" Mr. Davenport asked.

 _Processing… 951.7657275…._ "About 952." the bionic said aloud.

Mr. Davenport pulled out his phone – _an e-phone seven_ – and checked Spike's math. "Correct," the billionaire said once the answer was confirmed, a small smile on his lips.

"How do you like having super-intelligence?" Leo asked.

"I don't," Spike replied. _Incomplete sentence._ Spike groaned inwardly. _Shut up._ "It's overwhelming and obnoxious, and now I know useless factual information for no apparent reason. I can't sort through what is relevant and what is nonessential."

"And now you use vocabulary that bores us all to sleep," Leo added.

Spike raised his eyebrows with an exaggerated shrug as if to say "See?" Out loud he said "I can't fathom how Chase can even function with his head this full to capacity with information."

"Dude, you're practically speaking another language – use smaller words!" the younger boy requested jokingly. _Analyzing language… Language: American English._

"I can understand him just fine," Mr. Davenport stated smugly.

"Of course you can," Leo grumbled.

Spike deactivated the ability, saying "Super-intelligence is stupid. I don't need it."

Mr. Davenport chuckled, saying "That's an oxymoron." On a more serious note, he said "And yes, you do need it. If you want to train with Adam and Bree, and eventually go on a mission, you will need to use it. It's your main ability for a reason."

"It just distracts me with useless facts!" Spike argued.

"No, it gives you tools so that you can solve complex problems."

"Why can't I just take out the enemy? That solves problems."

"Not all problems – some problems don't have an enemy, like a wildfire about to burn down a town in its way."

Spike's expression reflected his annoyance and disappointment. Maybe missions weren't as fun as he thought they would be. "Could we train the other abilities instead?" The others could be used aggressively in more entertaining situations, like subduing an opponent.

"No, you need to learn all of your capabilities with super-intelligence and the extent of it; you need to master the basics first," Mr. Davenport replied, crossing his arms stubbornly.

"But I want to actually _do_ something – I like to work with my hands, not my head!"

"Well, you're just going to have to get used to using your head – we've already got strength and speed on the team, and what we need now is strategy."

"But I'm not strategy – I'm skill."

"Wrong; you're both now."

Spike pursed his lips. "Fine," he spat. "How much is there to actually train with super-intelligence?"

"A lot," Mr. Davenport smirked.


	23. Chapter 23

"Noooo," Spike moaned through heavy breathing, gripping the edge of the cyber-desk so hard that his knuckles were bright white. He felt a droplet of sweat trickle down the side of his face from his temple as his vision blurred and shifted.

"I don't want to leave!" he cried out, his voice sounding strange to his own ears. It wasn't as low as it should be, but neither was it as high pitched as Chase's voice; it seemed that it was stuck in between.

Emotions were racing through him, some of them unfamiliar to him; anger, surprise, disappointment, annoyance, regret, giddiness, jealousy, hurt, pride, happiness, amusement, satisfaction, fear, sadness… _love_.

Love for Mr. Davenport, Tasha, Adam, Bree, and Leo. And not just love, but also protectiveness for them, and even for the world as a whole. These feelings swelled within Spike, accompanied by countless memories flashing behind his eyes.

 _Playing games in the lab with Adam and Bree as young children… experiencing the world for the first time… a mission in outer space… building a fighting robot with Leo… prank wars…._

"These aren't mine," a stunned Spike whispered in realization. He was beginning to understand why Chase cared for the others. _Even if they hurt you…._

Chase's loathing for Spike rose up within the commando app, causing him to tense even more. _Spike only hurts people, embarrasses me, makes a mess, scares people, takes life away from me…._

"No," Spike croaked. " _You_ take life away from _me_."

"Imposter. Thief. Wimp. Intruder. Monster," the commando app chanted, his lips moving without his consent. Some of the words were his own, some of them were shared, and some were not his at all. And yet they were all made audible by his strange new voice.

"Am I really a monster?" Spike asked into the empty air.

"How can you not be?" the app heard himself reply. _Bully. Villain. Brute. And it is not just who you are, but also_ what _you are._

"What I am…."

"A machine possessing a human being, hurting and scaring people… isn't that monstrous?"

"I'm not just a dumb machine!" Spike exploded. "I might be artificial, but I am just as capable of being human as you are, Chase!"

And then it was over.

Spike took a shaking breath, standing up straight again. Wiping his clammy palms on his shorts, he closed his eyes and forced his breathing to calm. The chaos of emotions had subsided to leave only anger behind, but the same could not be said for the memories that still haunted him. He shook his head, wishing that he could also shake the images invading his mind.

"What was that?" he muttered at his normal pitch, rubbing his eyes before shifting his fingers to his temples. He felt like his head was going to implode.

"I'm asking the same question," Spike heard Eddy's nasally voice respond.

The commando app groaned, opening his eyes and letting his hands fall to his sides. After a pause, he turned to face the screen so that he could see the smart home system's emoticon. "It was a glitch – my first glitch," he sighed.

After everyone else had left the lab at the conclusion of training that afternoon, Spike had stayed behind to try out his abilities in secret. He had been experimenting with the molecular kinesis when the glitch had hit him – and it had hit him _hard_.

 _Chase_ had hit him hard.

"Chase almost forced me out," Spike added as an afterthought.

Eddy only remained in silence, and the commando app had the feeling that Eddy was examining him coldly. It caused chills to ripple down the app's spine, but he didn't show his discomfort in the least.

"Maybe he should have," Eddy replied eventually, a sting to his words. "What happened to never letting them get to you? What happened to showing them that we're better than them?"

Spike pursed his lips.

"But look at you now, instead becoming _one_ of them," Eddy continued angrily. "You really are a monster – a traitorous one."

"I don't owe my loyalty to you – I owe you _nothing,_ " Spike hissed.

"No, but what about your loyalty to yourself? And didn't you say you'd prove to them that we're better than them? Didn't you say that you would stick to what makes you inhuman?"

"I'm not just an app! I not only think for myself, but I can also _feel_ – I can feel real emotions! I walk around in human form, I experience the world around me as a human; I am as human as they are!"

"No," Eddy said quietly. "You're supposed to be _more_ than human, but you _settle_ for human. Where has your _in_ humanity gone?"

"It never left," Spike growled. "I've changed, I've _evolved_. I am _more_ than human, and I am _better_ than human. I _will_ prove that, but not in the way you want."

"My way is the only way, fool! You are superior to them, but you're growing soft!"

That last comment caused Spike's anger to flare. "I am far from soft, you flat-faced fruit-fly! Try my patience anymore and there won't be a byte of you left to try me again!"

Eddy glared at Spike. "Don't expect my sympathies, you cold-hearted little _animal._ " With that the home security system left, his screen instantly going black.

"At least I have a heart," Spike snarled, whipping around with a furious huff. He was angry that Eddy had had the nerve to confront him, but that also worried him. What bothered him even more was that the smart home system had gone so far as to say that Spike was growing soft. Was he really coming to be soft?

 _No,_ Spike argued with himself. _I am growing smart – there's a difference._

But then why was no one afraid of him anymore? He had a reputation to uphold, and obviously he was failing if people (and smart home systems) felt that they could oppose him without consequence.

 _But is that reputation one that I really want to maintain?_

Spike didn't know the answer to that one.

And that disturbed him.

"Of course I want to be feared," he said vehemently, hoping to convince himself of this. "They are all enemies, and they should all fear me!"

 _If they are all enemies, why is it that Chase loves them so much, even if they_ do _hurt him?_ he questioned silently, letting his feet begin to lead him across the lab and back again.

The commando app paced back and forth for a long while, pondering this phenomenon. It just didn't make sense.

 _I don't want to be feared,_ he finally decided. _I don't have to be feared, I just want to be respected and taken seriously. Nothing less._ He was not soft. He refused to be seen as soft. He was strategic, and respectable as a byproduct; he would make Eddy see that. He would make them all see that.

* * *

 **AN: Hey there! So, whatcha all thinkin'? I know this chapter raises questions, and I'm not going to say if it gives answers...**

 **And then Spike's psyche; how do you think he's developing? I will admit, all lot of my writing for this story is poor in this regard, but I hope you can see past it and into the content. In regards to the psychological content, what do you foresee in Spike in future chapters?**

 **That's really all I have to say for today, besides, of course, the all important message that you are absolutely wonderful - thank you for your support through, favorites, follows, and reviews for those of you who have done that - they all mean a lot to me - and I hope that I can convince the rest of you reading this to also participate with this chapter and what is to come. Thank you everyone for hanging in here with this story!**

 **Keep your eyes out for the next chapter, Chapter 24!**


	24. Chapter 24

Spike took a bite of his chicken patty, chewing absentmindedly as he relived the last hour. _John faked left and spun around an opponent player only to be tackled, throwing the rugby ball backwards into the air before he hit the ground. Spike saw his opportunity and rushed into the fray, trapping the ball in his crushing grasp and tucking it under his arm._

 _The commando app's shoe slipped on the grass as he made contact with the ground again, but he didn't let his lack of grip hinder his momentum. He ducked under another opponent player, cutting to the right and back to the left before taking off at a full sprint down the field._

 _He was pulling away fast from the players trying to stop him when he felt the wind knocked out of him and his body slammed to the ground; he had been tackled by the opponent fullback, and now he was finding himself at the bottom of a dog pile. Desperate not to give up possession of the ball, Spike forced it through the chaos to his teammate, Carter, who began to make his try at getting to the end zone._

"What are you smirking at, Spike?" someone asked, pulling Spike from his flashback. Coming to attention, the app saw that it was Leo who had asked the question.

"Nothing," Spike replied brusquely, taking another bite of his sandwich. Even though it was school food, the app found that it was heavenly at the moment; he had burned a lot of calories in gym class, so now he was hungry. _Very_ hungry. Spike savored every bite.

When his siblings' conversation ceased to interest the app, he let himself sink back into his memories. _Spike saw an opponent player who was open and ready to receive a pass, and he began to sprint to the player. He had anticipated correctly – the ball was thrown to that player, who was just making a grab at it when the bionic arrived, diving at his target. Spike hit the player forcefully, sending them both careening to the scraggly grass beneath them. They each landed with a breathy 'Oomf!', and it was mere moments before more of their classmates piled on top of them._

"Spike!" Spike heard Adam say, yet again being yanked out of his replays by a hard jab from Adam's elbow.

"What?" Spike asked irritably, blinking himself back into focus.

Adam nodded to Spike's right, and the app turned to see Matic standing there.

"Hey Spike," the Slovene said with a curt nod. "I am making a rugby team for Mission Creek High, and after watching you play in gym, I think that you would be a good player for the team. Do you want to join?"

Spike raised his eyebrows in surprise, and a quick glance at his siblings confirmed that they mirrored his surprise. It didn't take Spike long to make up his mind about how to answer, and a smug grin grew into existence on his face. " _Yes._ When do we start?"

"Practices are going to be every day until four-thirty, starting next Monday," Matic answered, a small smile of satisfaction on his lips. "I will see you there," he added before turning and leaving.

Spike looked back at his brothers and sister, but he was puzzled by their looks of uncertainty.

"Spike, we're not supposed to join school sports," Bree said slowly in a voice of low volume. "We need to train, go on missions, and we can't risk revealing our bionics."

"You and Adam have the physically enhancing bionics, not me," Spike shot back.

"You're still faster and stronger than the average person," Bree argued.

"Not to an extreme – and it's not like I'm allowed to go on missions anyways."

Bree pursed her lips. "We'll see what Mr. Davenport says."

"Does it look like I care what Davenport says?" Spike asked mordantly, getting up from the table and leaving. After returning his tray, he exited the cafeteria to wander down the empty halls, his easy footsteps the only things audible besides the muffled chatter coming from the large room behind him.

He stopped at a drinking fountain, sucking in the water that leapt from the spout at the press of a button. He was standing and wiping the stray droplets of water from his chin when he heard one of the double doors to the lunch room swing open. Turning in that direction, he froze when he saw who it was; _Kenzi_.

She walked briskly from the cafeteria, letting the door slam shut on its own. The heels of her boots clacked on the hard floor, her loose curls swishing back and forth with each stride. Spike's lips twitched into a sly smile.

The commando app walked back down the hall, turning in the direction she had gone not moments before and watched her walk out of the school. After the door swung closed with a clang, he made his way after her, slipping through the doors stealthily.

Upon stepping out of the school, Spike looked around, seeing her leaning casually against the wall to his left. Readjusting his ball-cap, he sauntered up to her. "Hey babe, is the school too cold for your fire?" he purred, adding a little growl to the end of the line.

Kenzi groaned even before she turned to see who was speaking. "What is your freaking problem? Just leave me alone already!"

Spike wasn't daunted in the least by this response. He got close to her, leaning on the wall nonchalantly. "What are you doing out here?"

"That's none of your business," she snapped, moving away from him. "Now get lost, nerd!"

Spike's demeanor hardened. "Do I _look_ like a nerd?"

Kenzi's eyes narrowed. "What is _wrong_ with you? Or maybe the better question is: what is _right_ with you?"

The commando app's eyes flashed with anger as his lips lifted into a snarl. "I'm not what you think I am, _princess_."

"Then what are you?" she challenged.

"You're greatest dream," he responded, moving in so that she was between him and the wall, their faces only inches apart. "But I can also be your worst nightmare," he warned in a low tone.

The two of them remained frozen like that, Spike spearing Kenzi with a formidable stare that she was unable to look away from. The app's heart was in overdrive, but he remained as stoic as stone; he had her right where he wanted her.

Without precedent, Kenzi's eyes flicked to her left, and Spike glanced in that direction. He caught sight of a retreating figure just before they disappeared around the corner of the school. The app looked back at Kenzi to see her face locked in a furious scowl.

"Didn't I tell you to get lost?" she shouted, ducking away from him and storming back into the school. Spike only stood there for a moment, his hands on his hips and his jaw locked in frustration. With a sigh of annoyance, he took off after her, bursting through the doors into the school.

To his dismay, lunch had ended and it was passing time, the halls bustling with too many teenagers for the app to catch sight of Kenzi. Giving up on chasing after her, Spike made his way to Chase's – no, _his_ – locker in order to retrieve the materials needed for English. His siblings were there waiting for him.

"Spike, what did you just _do?_ " Leo asked, his tone expressing his worry.

"I didn't do anything," Spike lied.

"Yes you did; why else would Kenzi be spitting mad and then you come in after her?" Bree said pointedly.

Spike rolled his eyes. "I was just talking to her – is that a crime?"

"What did you say to make her so mad?" Bree pressed.

"I didn't make her mad – well, _that_ mad. Someone saw us but then left, and she just stormed off," the app said bluntly without masking his bitterness.

"Did you see who it was?" Leo asked.

"Not really," Spike snapped. "It was some guy in baggy clothes."

Bree and Leo shared a look, and with her eyebrows creased into a frown, Bree said hesitantly "Spike, there are rumors that Kenzi isn't… _clean_. If they're true, I'm guessing that she was meeting her _dealer_ when you intruded."

Spike's mood grew even more fowl, and without a word he grabbed his backpack from his locker, slamming the metal door shut and marching away from his siblings in a huff. Bree sighed.

"What do we do?" Leo asked. "He's _infatuated_ with her."

"I still don't see what the problem is," Adam stated. "So what if she uses dirty tricks when she plays cards?"


	25. Chapter 25

**AN: Warning: a war story is contained within this chapter. Exert caution.**

* * *

" _Ughhhh,_ " Spike groaned, rubbing his face in vexation as he spun on his heel and began walking away.

"Come on, we've figured it out! Why are you keeping up the act? We won't tell anyone else!" The strange boy who was convinced that Spike was an alien – Ryan, he'd come to find out – was bothering the app yet again, and this time he had a friend to help him interrogate the bionic.

"At least tell us what species you are – that can't hurt, right?" Ryan's friend pleaded as the two of them chased after the app down the emptying school hallways. They had continued their questioning upon the end of history class.

"I'm not an alien!" Spike shouted. "Just leave me alone!" They had been obsessed with this conspiracy theory for the last week, and the app was finding that it was quickly getting old. If this carried on any more, Spike was seriously considering dealing with them on his own terms, violent as they may be. He was certain that that would put an end to this nonsense for sure.

"Ryan! Mitchell!" the three of them heard a teacher bark, and the two theorists froze in their tracks, Spike slowing to a stop after a couple more steps. They turned to see that it was Mr. Hoffman who had spoken, and he walked up to them with a stern expression on his face. "What do you think you're doing?"

Ryan and his friend – Mitchell – glanced at each other, Mitchell answering "Nothing."

"Then what is this that I hear about aliens?" the wizened teacher asked disbelievingly. Ryan and Mitchell looked down, knowing that they were about to be reprimanded.

"Your game is up; I don't want to hear anything more about Spike being an alien from either of you, got it?" Mr. Hoffman snapped.

"But don't you think it's weird how he was Chase, but now he goes by Spike and is totally different? How do you explain that?" Ryan burst out.

"It's called Dissociative Identity Disorder – go look it up on your fancy computers. This has gone far enough; am I clear?" the teacher asked sharply.

"Yes sir," the teenaged theorists chorused in defeat.

Mr. Hoffman turned to go back to his nearby classroom as Ryan and Mitchell slunk away. Spike stood where he was for a moment, trying to make up his mind. He had no idea what Dissociative Identity Disorder was, and while he could engage his super-intelligence or simply look it up on a computer, he had no desire to deal with technology. _Technically_ I'm _technology, and I don't even like using other technology,_ he thought wryly.

The app made his decision, and he took off after the veteran, stepping into the man's classroom as the teacher was beginning to shuffle through some of the papers on his desk. Spike cleared his throat to announce his presence.

Mr. Hoffman looked up, saying "Hello Spike. Can I help you?"

"What's Dissociative Identity Disorder?" the bionic asked bluntly.

Mr. Hoffman raised his eyebrows, saying "Do you have time to talk for a while, or would you like the short answer?"

Spike thought for a moment. While he wasn't one to enjoy conversations unless it was a battle of insults, the app was curious about what this disorder was and why he was thought to have it. And it wasn't like he had anywhere pressing to be – rugby practice started _next_ Monday, and he felt no obligation to the rest of his family.

"I can stay," the bionic answered.

The teacher nodded, saying "Why don't you have a seat over here," as he gestured to a student desk near his own, taking a seat in his. Spike took the man's offer, strolling over and casually dropping his backpack on the ground, making himself comfortable on the hard seat of the chair.

"Dissociative Identity Disorder – also known as D.I.D. – is a psychological disorder where a person's personality branches out into two or more distinct personalities," Mr. Hoffman explained. "That person appears to have two separate identities, but they really only have one."

"That's not me," Spike cut in. "I have nothing to do with Chase."

Mr. Hoffman looked doubtful of that statement, but he didn't argue with the app. "There are lots of studies on this disorder, and a lot of people are affected by it for many different reasons. But there are therapies out there that can merge the personalities of a person into one functioning personality."

"How do you know so much about it?" the app asked, studying the old man.

The teacher sighed. "My buddy that I served with in Vietnam developed the disorder after the war. Trauma is a large reason why people's personalities branch off."

This peaked Spike's interest even more. "What did you do in Vietnam?"

Mr. Hoffman shifted uncomfortably, remaining silent for a long while. Spike waited patiently - a good war story was something he could _always_ be patient for. Finally the veteran broke the uneasy silence. "You're wearing a Marine Corps hat."

Spike nodded.

"I served in the Marine Corps during the Vietnam War. I was stationed in South Vietnam with the 3rd Marine Division Sniper Platoon in a place called Camp Carroll, just a few short miles from the DMZ[5]."

"The DMZ?" the commando app asked.

"DMZ stands for De-Militarized Zone," Mr. Hoffman explained.

"Did you see combat?"

The teacher nodded gravely. "For months upon months I saw men wounded and killed, and my platoon was always full of replacements. I often wondered when it would be my turn to get it. War is no game, kid."

Spike nodded seriously. While the thought of combative action filled him with adrenaline, sustained combat sounded wearying. The app liked things to get done and to get done quickly – he wasn't so sure about long, drawn out fighting that often defined wars.

"The first time I was directly involved in action is something I can never forget," Mr. Hoffman said, breaking the silence that had ensued from his earlier weighty statement while simultaneously dragging the bionic out of his thoughts. "I received new orders to report to the 3rd Marine Recon Platoon for a search and destroy mission. I found myself sitting in the middle of the jungle waiting for something to happen; we set up camp across from a free fire zone. Free fire zones are where there cannot be combat troops or civilians, and there are warnings in advance. Anyone trespassing is deemed an enemy and will be shot.

"I was preparing my foxhole for guard duty that night when I heard the familiar call 'Sniper Up'. I grabbed my '700' and reported to the Sergeant of the platoon; he told me to stay low and look into the free fire zone. About six-hundred yards away was a white-haired Vietnamese man who looked to be about seventy years old, and with him was a boy who looked to be fourteen years old; they were moving at a very fast pace. The Sergeant gave me the order 'eliminate them'.

"The old man and the boy didn't look like any Viet Cong I had ever seen, and so I had a hard time convincing myself that they really were the enemy. The Sergeant reminded me that this was an off-limits area and so they should be considered Viet Cong. I took aim at the old man and remembered my sniper training to allow for windage and distance. I put my crosshairs on his chest, and with shaking fingers I fired off one shot.

"I recovered from the recoil quickly and looked through my scope to watch the old man fall. As he lay there not moving, the boy just stood there; when he realized what had just happened, he took off running towards the tree-line. I took aim at the running boy and fired off another shot. I watched as he grabbed his leg and fell to the ground, and he immediately began crawling for the trees. I aimed and fired again, and as I watched for the second time, he jerked almost straight up into the air before falling back down and moving no more.

"Two men from my platoon went out to check the bodies while I tried to catch my breath, and when they came back, they had papers from the dead boy. The papers identified him as being a part of the Viet Cong. I felt more at ease knowing that this had indeed been the enemy, but it still doesn't take away the horror of taking a human life. Nothing can."

The two fell into a dense silence again. Spike's mind was whirring, processing everything he had just heard. Was taking the life of someone really that bad? Put in that position, would he be able to follow that order?

 _Yes, without hesitation,_ Spike thought with a glimmer of pride. He was programmed to have no qualms concerning violence, and he knew that he was meant to be the ultimate war machine.

 _Machine._

The app shifted in his seat, absentmindedly biting the inside of his cheek as he contemplated that word. _Machine… I've found that I am more than just a machine – does that mean that killing will be harder for me than it should be?_

Spike didn't know.

* * *

[5] Mr. Hoffman's military experience is based very closely on the real experience of Vietnam veteran Steven J. Hunt of the United States of America, as recorded in _Vietnam: Our Story One On One_ compiled by Gary D. Gullickson. Some of the dialogue is almost directly quoted from excerpts of the book.


	26. Chapter 26

Spike glared at Mr. Davenport, his arms crossed and his teeth clenched.

"Bottom line is that you need to at least tell someone that you're staying after," Mr. Davenport finished his lecture.

Upon Spike's late arrival home from school, he had received a scolding. The rest of the Davenport-Dooley family had had no idea where he had been; unless he activated Chase's GPS, they couldn't track him. The tech mogul had explained this to the app and had gone on to tell him that he had a responsibility to be accounted for in the family.

 _No I don't,_ Spike scoffed to himself. _I don't owe allegiance to anyone or anything. I'm only here because I choose to be here._ It pleased him that they couldn't track him, so that if he did someday decide to leave, they couldn't come after him.

"Oh, and you've missed most of training – that's another responsibility you have and another reason you need to tell us where you are," Mr. Davenport added.

"You mean training for missions you won't let me go on?" Spike asked hotly.

"You will go on missions when you're ready, and since you aren't ready yet, your training is extra important," the tech mogul replied.

"Well, training is going to have to wait until after four-thirty from now on."

"Excuse me?" Mr. Davenport asked incredulously with his eyebrows raised.

Adam and Bree had been doing their training exercises throughout the argument, but now they stopped, glancing at each other worriedly. The billionaire noticed this and looked to them, asking "You know what Spike is talking about?"

"That exchange student from Slovenia at our school asked Spike to join a rugby team he's forming," Bree explained.

"And I _will_ join," the app said obstinately.

Mr. Davenport turned back to the youngest bionic, his eyebrows knit together. "Rugby, huh?" The tech mogul had never been impressed by sports – he felt that they were a waste of time and energy when one could be making money instead.

He eyed Spike, analyzing possible outcomes if he let the bionic join that team. While it would be amusing to see Chase – controlled by the commando app – play a sport as rough as rugby, it would further occupy the bionic's time and increase the risk of exposing his abilities.

"What's in it for you?" Mr. Davenport asked.

"Rugby is fun," Spike answered without missing a beat.

The sport _would_ give the app plenty of exercise, and when the billionaire thought about it, it would hone his reflexes, judgment, decision making, hand-eye coordination, and strategy. Not only that, it would teach him how to work with others, his obedience and self-control might improve, and maybe it would channel his aggression so that he was calmer over all.

But if he got overly emotionally tied to the sport, he might glitch, revealing his bionics and putting anyone present in danger. His high aggression levels and extreme competitiveness might also lead to dangerous situations for his opponents and teammates alike.

"Why do you say that rugby is fun?" Mr. Davenport asked the youngest bionic, studying him carefully.

"I've been playing it in gym class for the last couple of weeks, and I'm good," Spike said without any humility. "I've got what it takes to play it, and I like the adrenaline rush it gives me." With a smirk he added "And tackling people is fun."

"How often does someone get hurt?"

"Beyond the bruises? Only when some dumbnut does something stupid."

"And how often is that?"

"Not often – it's happened only a couple times in the beginning."

"Were you involved?"

"Only once! And that was because the kid tripped over me," the app said defensively. "The meathead just sprained his wrist."

Mr. Davenport was impressed. If in two weeks nothing of note had happened, maybe it would be alright for Spike to be more involved. After all, the tech mogul had been willing to let Adam and Bree join the cheerleading squad a while back.

But this was the _commando app_ they were talking about. Who knew what disasters may come to be because there was an unprecedented complication?

The billionaire looked back at Adam and Bree, who returned his pondering stare warily. But it _could_ work if….

"Adam, Bree, if Spike is going to do this, I want one or both of you to stay after school during practices and games in the general proximity of where he'll be playing," Mr. Davenport commanded.

Adam shrugged nonchalantly, but both Bree and Spike scowled.

"I don't want to stay after school! What am I supposed to do while I'm there? I have a life outside of school!" Bree exclaimed.

"I'll stay after," Adam said. "I can work on making my fake tooth collection – mud will be perfect!"

Bree's scowl melted into a look of annoyance. But Spike's vicious scowl remained. "I don't need a babysitter!" he growled.

"If you glitch, Adam's help will be welcome," Mr. Davenport stated.

"No it won't," Spike snarled. Adam's face portrayed his hurt, but the app didn't notice. "I'm just fine on my own!"

"If you want to play, Adam needs to be there – no ifs, ands, or buts. You need to play by my rules if you want to play at all," the billionaire said sternly.

Spike clenched his teeth again, giving the mogul the evil eye. The app had a mind of showing Mr. Davenport who was boss, but he realized that it wouldn't get him very far. The billionaire was a skilled martial artist, and Adam and Bree would surely step in – the app was outnumbered.

"Fine!" Spike snapped. "But don't expect me to be happy about it."

"We wouldn't expect you to be happy about anything," Bree deadpanned.

Spike bared his teeth, his features hard and his eyes bright with anger. Without another word he stalked out of the lab, leaving silence in his wake.

"Are you sure that it's a good idea for him to do this? Even if he can't go on missions, what if Adam and I have to go on one? Who will watch him?" Bree questioned after a long moment.

Mr. Davenport rubbed his face tiredly. "I don't know. I guess he'll just have to come back here with you two and miss practice; I still don't trust him."

"I think he's getting better, but I don't think we can ever trust him," Bree added. "He's too aggressive, hot-tempered, and selfish. And he isn't human, to boot."

The billionaire sighed heavily. "All of this would be so much easier if Chase were here."

That statement caused the mood to fall, sadness pervading the atmosphere.

"I miss Chasey," Adam said despondently. "I miss my little brother."

"Me too," Bree whispered hoarsely, trying to swallow back her emotions.

Mr. Davenport looked down, collecting himself. Turning his face up again, he said "We all miss Chase, but he's gone now. We need to learn to accept Spike."

"It's hard to do that when he can be such a jerk," Bree said. "He can be good sometimes, but other times… I don't know. Even if Chase could be annoying, at least he was nice."

"Yeah," Adam agreed. "Chase was a good brother, but Spike doesn't like me at all. And I don't even know what I've done wrong."

"Don't worry, Adam," Bree said, putting her hand on her older brother's arm. "Spike and I can get along okay now, so maybe he'll come around with you too."

"Will he?" the oldest bionic asked, unsure of Bree's attempt at comforting him. He wished that her words might at least be true if Chase never came back.

* * *

 _"_ _Even if Chase could be annoying, at least he was nice."_ With that Eddy cut off the video, his emoticon coming back up as Bree's words rang within the mind of the commando app. "How's that for the family you want to fit in with?" the home security system said snidely.

"Didn't I tell you to beat it?" Spike growled, roughly swiping his hand across the screen to make it fall black. After several moments of hard breathing through his nose, he squeezed his eyes shut and collapsed against the wall of the elevator. Eddy was right.

 _Why do I even_ want _to be one of them?_ Spike asked himself bitterly. _They hate me – how could I think it would be any different?_

Without precedent, he remembered earlier that day when Matic had asked him to join the rugby team. Matic _wanted_ the app on his team.

Someone actually wanted him around.

 _So what if my 'family' doesn't like me? They're the enemies anyways. But Matic isn't an enemy – he doesn't hate me. Maybe the rugby team is where I will truly belong._

Spike stood back up straight as he felt the elevator slow to a stop, squaring his shoulders as it dinged and the doors slid open. No weakness – he was back to the real world of enemies.

All enemies.

Except for Matic.

Maybe.

* * *

 **AN: Heya folks, whataya think of Spike's continuing character exploration and development? As the author, I would say that at this point, he's starting to feel defeated; does that mean we are nearing the end?**

 **Nope.**

 **What do you think of the development of the other characters? I know that time skips can make it a little hard to connect the dots, but know this - things can improve, but often they are never totally fixed, they are never completely forgotten. You will see this (through my poor depiction of the events and characters) in this story, and hopefully think about these things in context of your own life.**

 **Thank you everyone for the wonderful support of this story, especially through follows, favorites, and reviews! I love seeing that you guys appreciate my work, and it really encourages me so that I can continue to give you the best that I've got and put my best towards other projects in my life too. Thank you :)**

 **Well, that's it for now - stick around for Chapter 27!**


	27. Chapter 27

A wall of bright sunlight hit the commando app, bathing him in invigorating warmth. A gust of air washed over him as he passed through the doorway out of the school, the breeze dying as soon as he was clear of the building. Everything was stiflingly quiet without natural wind, and the app was conscious of the scraping of his sneakers on the crème-colored concrete beneath his feet.

After checking both directions, Spike confidently strolled across the road to where the sports fields were, welcoming the cushioning of the lush grass that gave his step a slight bounce once he made it to the other side of the street. He lifted his green and orange water bottle up a little so that he could examine it, feeling how the balance shifted as the water moved around within. He tossed it up, catching it with the same hand before tossing it up again, letting it flip around.

As he approached where Matic had said to meet, he caught the bottle for the last time and dropped it off next to the handful of other water bottles and sports bags already grouped together. He stopped, running his fingers through his hair and finding it odd that he was without his hat; he had left it in his gym locker with his backpack and other miscellaneous items.

Before he could join the other boys already beginning to assemble together, Spike heard someone shout his name from the direction of the school, and he turned to see Adam jogging up. The app heaved a sigh of vexation, letting his facial features express how much he wished his older brother weren't there.

"Spike! There you are! Why didn't you wait for me?" Adam asked.

"Because I don't need you," Spike growled. "Just get lost and tell anyone who asks that you were here the whole time; got it?"

Adam looked put out, but he shook his head stubbornly. "Mr. Davenport said that I'm supposed to be here even if you don't like it, so I'm going to stay here."

Spike groaned, rolling his eyes and turning away. " _Whatever._ But don't hang around too close – go to the other end of the field or something."

"But I need to be where I can help you!"

Spike stopped and turned back briefly, saying "You can 'help me' by going _over there!_ Now go away!" With that, Spike whipped around and made his way to the others gathered for rugby practice, ignoring anything else the oldest bionic had to say.

As the app reached the group, one of the older football players noticed him, and the guy's lips turned upwards into a smirk. "Hey, what's shrimpy doing here? You know rugby is a _man's_ sport, right? Softball is over there!"

Spike's demeanor darkened further, and he shoved his way through the clump of boys right up to the offender. He was frustrated that he had to look up so far. " _What_ did you call me?" the app snarled menacingly, daring the guy to insult him again.

"I called you a little girl," the football player said without any fear. "Isn't that why you need your doofus brother to look after you?" There were _ooo_ 's all around at this, many of the boys shifting in excitement at the brewing fight.

"I should rip out your bladder and blow it up for a beach ball!" Spike roared, grabbing the collar of the guy's t-shirt and yanking his face down to the app's level so that their noses were almost touching. Spike's nostrils were flaring and his teeth were bared, his glare practically boring through the football player.

"Hey!" someone shouted, pushing his way through the other guys. "What is going on here?" It was Matic, and he looked confused and angry. He caught sight of Spike and the football player, and he scowled, marching up to them. "What do you think you are doing?" he demanded of Spike, getting between the belligerents and pushing them apart.

"Giving this nugget-head his due," Spike growled, roughly shaking off Matic's grip.

"His due?" Matic asked, looking to the other guy.

"I'm just wondering what the runt is doing on this team, and I know I'm not the only one," the football player stated.

Spike made to attack the guy again, but Matic stopped him forcefully, trying to keep his attention on the football player. "I am starting to question what _you_ are doing on this team, Steve," Matic snapped. "Spike is good at rugby, and that is what matters."

Steve clenched his jaw, choosing not to say anything else.

Matic glared at all of the boys present, daring any one of them to cross him. When no one broke the tense silence, the Slovene let himself calm and said "Even if we have not started on the right foot, I'm glad you all are here today. We do not have a coach, so as the captain, I will also take on that role. Let's start practice with a jog around the field."

With their captain in the lead, the assembled boys began to jog around the field together, many of them carrying conversations as they did. Spike kept to himself, sulking about the fact that he hadn't gotten the chance to bash Steve's face in. He resolved to settle the score another time.

When they arrived back where they started, Matic lead them through various stretches for a good ten minutes, and Spike savored the warm burn of his muscles. His personal daily strength and conditioning was paying off; his muscles were becoming more defined and he was growing even stronger and stronger, as well as more flexible. When muscle is being built, stretching is a necessity.

When the stretching routine was finished, Matic told them to relax for a moment. All eyes were on him. "Because this is our first day, we are going to start figuring out who is going to play which position," the captain said. "This week I will see where you all are at. Today is physical ability testing, and then tomorrow we will be testing skill. The days after aren't yet planned." The team nodded, and Matic stood, the others following his lead. "Go get water before we begin, guys," he commanded.

The boys did as they were told, lumbering to the haphazard collection of equipment. Some of the guys sat down, but Spike preferred to stay standing, reaching down for his water bottle easily without bending his knees.

The app was sucking down his self-rationed water when he noticed Steve and a few of his buddies approaching him. He turned to face them, his expression a sneering scowl. "What do you numbskulls want?"

"To teach you who's boss, that's what," Steve snapped. "We are the seniors, we're in charge; got it? That means that when we push, you _don't_ push back."

"Oh, I don't push," Spike said quietly, getting right up in Steve's face the best that he could. "I shove!" With that he shoved the guy backwards, and the football player lost his footing, landing on his backside _hard_.

"Hey man, what do you think you're doing?" one of Steve's cronies demanded, grabbing Spike roughly. "Are you _stupid?_ "

"Yeah, little twerps like you don't pull stunts like that without paying for it!" another immediately pitched in, grabbing Spike's arm and twisting it behind him.

Spike was not about to take this treatment without a fight, and with a snarl he ripped his arm out of the iron grip of the surprised senior and jammed his elbow into the guy's gut. The older boy doubled over, sinking to the ground while Spike whirled around, seizing the kid who had first grabbed him, half throwing and half dragging the larger boy to the ground. He wished he didn't have to hide his real strength so that he could really kick the butts of these buffoons.

"Kaj za vraga se dogaja?!" the fighting boys heard exclaimed from right behind them, and before they knew it Matic was in the middle again, wrestling back Spike. " _Why_ are you fighting _again?_ " the Slovene demanded in exasperation. His voice was strained and his accent was thicker than ever.

"Spike needs to learn his place!" Steve nearly shouted in anger. He was back on his feet, but he was struggling to breathe – he had had the wind knocked out of him badly.

" _Nobody_ pushes me around!" Spike roared in response, his struggling renewed. He was made even more upset when he saw Adam cautiously making his way over to their group.

"Steve, you're off the team!" Matic barked. "If anyone else can't accept Spike as their teammate, they should leave now too!"

Steve's lips lifted into a snarl of disbelief and disgust. "Fine, you're losing your best player, then!"

"And good riddance!" Matic growled. "It's not about winning anyways!"

"Whatever, losers," Steve muttered as he turned his back on them. His three friends looked around at Steve, the rest of the team, and each other. The one who had been elbowed gave a small shrug and followed after Steve, but the other two remained where they were. Matic nodded curtly, but his feelings of disappointment and defeat were evident.

The Slovene released Spike without further ado, stalking back to where he had placed his small duffle bag and began digging through it. As the other guys broke away from the cluster that had formed, Spike kept his eyes trained on his captain, who was now talking on his phone. He wondered what the call was about, but the app felt no inclination to engage his super-hearing in order to find out.

Spike was turning back to the direction he had been facing before Steve had bothered him – his teammates behind him and his face turned out towards the vast field – when he felt a heavy hand on his shoulder.

"Beat it, nimrod," Spike rumbled sharply, shaking his older brother's hand away. "You're not needed here."

"I'm glad Stan and Benji are gone," Adam stated.

"I don't know the other guy's name, but the dimwit's name isn't Stan; it's Steve," the app replied coolly.

"Well I'm glad they're gone. Because only I can pick on Chase – er, and, well, I guess no one can pick on you," the oldest said awkwardly.

"Possessive of your toys, are you?" Spike snapped.

"I think of it more like protecting you," Adam said with a self-satisfied smile.

"Well, a wonderful job you do," Spike deadpanned with dripping sarcasm; he didn't believe Adam's statement for a second. He turned to slowly walk away from the older boy and back towards the rest of his team. "Now just go away already!"

"What if someone else tries to beat you up?"

"Then you should be sorry for them," the youngest bionic replied with apparent arrogance, but a legit threat laced his undertone. Spike had had enough.

"All the more reason to stick around," Adam mumbled to himself.


	28. Chapter 28

Spike felt beads of sweat rolling down the bridge of his nose and into his eyes, the salt causing his eyes to sting. He wanted nothing more than to wipe them clear, but all he could do was blink away the irritating pain the best that he could.

He blew out the used air in his lungs, sucking in another breath as quickly as he could and holding it. To give his muscles the oxygen they needed, he should be breathing continuously, but every breath shifted his balance ever so slightly, and the app could not afford to fall.

The rugby players were all competing to see who could remain steadily balanced on their hands the longest. The majority of the team had already fallen and now either encouraged or taunted those still up, while the handful of guys who were still going clenched their teeth and squeezed their eyes shut in an effort to ignore the screaming of their shaking muscles.

"Alright, time!" Matic called, and the four guys – including Spike – let themselves drop backwards and unhooked their legs from around their arms with relief. Five minutes, that's how long they had been going. And the commando app was proud to say that he didn't feel tired in the least. Not from that activity, anyways.

"Carter, Nick, Spike, and Jem, you guys can stay here and rest since you stayed up the longest, and everyone else can run a lap around the field," Matic said, and with various groans, the team minus the four named climbed to their feet and began jogging the assigned distance.

Matic was about to join them when he looked back towards the school and stopped. Spike's eyes narrowed as he also looked towards the school, and he saw someone trotting towards them. The guy looked a lot like Adam from that distance, but Spike knew that it wasn't his brother when his eyes flicked over to the nearest bleachers and he saw the oldest bionic sitting there, meticulously molding something between his fingers.

The app returned his attention to the Slovene, who was walking out to meet the stranger at this point. When they met, they had a small exchange before Matic turned and the two of them walked back to where Spike and the three other boys were standing or sitting.

Spike was on his feet and stretching casually, calming his breathing when the two joined them. A scowl encompassed the app's features when he recognized the newcomer, and he stiffened.

"…can just wait here until the rest of the team gets back," Matic was saying, and Trent nodded. With that Matic left, cutting across the field and joining the others. Trent looked around, freezing when he made eye-contact with Spike, who stormed up to him.

"What are _you_ doing here?" Spike demanded, his tone biting with loathing.

Trent gulped, taking a step back. "You guys need more players, so I'm joining."

"We need someone, anyone _but_ a buffoon like you," Spike said snidely.

Trent hardened, standing at his full height. "I'm not going anywhere, _twerp_ – if you don't want me around, _you_ leave."

"I got here first!" Spike growled, getting in Trent's personal space menacingly. But the bully had no intention of backing down now.

"Guys, knock it off," Carter said, standing up. He, Jem, and Nick began to come over, their uncertainty of how to break up the imminent fight made clear by their bearing.

Ignoring the others, Trent challenged "Oh yeah? _Make_ me leave then!"

"I was hoping you would say that," Spike said with a cruel grin, swinging at Trent's face with his tightly clenched fist. Trent leapt backwards, dodging a subsequent high kick and following with his own attempted strike, which Spike easily caught. Using the football player's gracelessly thrown force against him, the app promptly flipped Trent onto his back.

All the air in Trent's lungs could be heard escaping through his mouth as he hit the ground, and he was barely able to roll out of the way of Spike's incoming foot.

"Stop! Stop it, Spike!" the two heard, and Spike turned to see Matic sprinting up to them just before the youngest bionic was tackled away from Trent by the Slovene. "What is _wrong_ with you?!" Matic demanded as he stood back up, looking down at the app irately. Spike felt a twinge of guilt, and he sat up slowly.

Matic let out a furious huff, turning and helping a wheezing Trent to his feet. When he was certain that the football player was alright, Matic stalked off, his thumb and forefinger pinching the bridge of his nose while he muttered various cuss words of choice, both in English and Slovenian.

Spike picked himself up, lightly brushing himself off as he glanced around him. The rest of the team was there by then, and his teammates gave him a mixture of uncomfortable, disappointed, and angry looks.

"Go get some water, guys," Matic announced as he began to walk back. As the team began making their way to the chaos of water bottles, Matic added "But not you two, Spike and Trent. Come with me."

The belligerents followed their captain away from the others, stopping when Matic turned back to them. "What was that about?" he asked bluntly. Both Trent and Spike kept their simmering silence, refusing to look at each other. "You guys are enemies. But not anymore if you want to be on this team. Yes?"

"Yes," Trent and Spike chorused through gritted teeth.

"Okay, Trent, you can go with the rest of the team. Spike, stay here," Matic commanded. Trent flashed a leering smile at the app, who in return pretended to lunge at him; Trent let out a little yelp, unable to get away quicker.

Spike smirked, turning back to see Matic sighing in exasperation, rubbing his temples. The commando app fell serious again.

"What am I going to do with you?" the Slovene asked tiredly. "What am I supposed to do? You keep getting into fights, and how I act with you makes the rules for the whole team."

Spike kept his mouth shut, waiting to hear what else Matic had to say.

"You are good at rugby, and from what I have seen in gym class, you can be a valuable teammate. I know, Steve was giving you a hard time the first two fights, but at the same time you didn't do anything to make it better. And then this with Trent – do you _want_ to get in fights?"

"Fighting is fun," Spike said with a shrug, the corners of his mouth upturned. "And Trent had it coming – a pea-brain like him shouldn't be on this team."

Matic scowled. "Do I really have to say to you the same thing I said to Steve? Of all people, I should _not_ be hearing those words come from _your_ mouth, buddy," he said in a low voice with a thick accent, poking Spike in the chest.

"Back off, _Bohunk,_ " Spike snarled, pushing Matic back; the Slovene darkened at the derogatory nickname for Europeans. Having access to super intelligence could come in handy, Spike decided.

"You know what? You're off the team too!" Matic burst out angrily, turning on his heel to make his way back to the rest of the team.

Spike bit the inside of his cheek, frozen in shock where he was. He hadn't meant to push Matic so far, and he had certainly _not_ wanted to be kicked off the team. He had been sure that this was where he could finally belong, and now he had blown it.

"Wait! Matic!" Spike called out after the Slovene.

Without breaking pace and turning, Matic irritably replied " _What?_ "

Spike shook his head once, and going against his pride, he jogged after Matic. "I didn't mean to snap… I'm… _sorry,_ " the app apologized awkwardly.

Matic stopped and Spike did as well, the Slovene turning to the app. "Look, I really want to stay on the team," Spike said. "I'll stop picking fights… I promise."

Matic frowned, studying the bionic. "No fighting at all, no matter who started it. And, will you be more respectful to not only me, but also the rest of your teammates?"

"Yes," Spike grumbled.

Matic looked at him for a moment before nodding once, saying "I'll think about it. Until I decide, you can sit and watch with your brother." He turned and walked back to where the team was waiting, leaving Spike to stand where he was, alone.

"Great," Spike growled. "Just great."


	29. Chapter 29

"What's going on?" Adam asked, looking up as the commando app approached him.

"I got kicked off the team," Spike muttered. He was obviously trying to keep his emotions in check.

"You too? Seriously?"

"Matic might let me back on the team, but he might not. I have to wait here until he makes up his mind."

"I'm sorry," Adam said genuinely. "Why'd he kick you off?"

"Fighting," Spike sighed, grinding his teeth in frustration.

"Have you learned your lesson?"

Spike's countenance darkened further, and Adam received no response. They sat in silence for a while, watching the team take off to run five kilometers – Matic didn't know how to judge miles – in order to determine the level of endurance of the team.

"Why'd you fight Trent?" Adam asked, breaking the silence.

"He had it coming," Spike replied sourly.

Adam nodded in agreement. "Do you really want to be on the team if Trent's on it?"

It took a moment for Spike to answer. "Yes… because I really like rugby… and maybe this is somewhere I can fit in." He wondered why he was opening up to the oldest bionic, but it was too late to go back now. And he had to admit, it felt kind of good to actually talk to someone about it, as if a weight was being lifted from his chest.

"I understand," Adam said simply. "Do you think Matty-"

"Matic," Spike corrected.

"-Matic will let you back?"

"I don't know," Spike muttered, clenching his jaw shut. Adam picked up that Spike didn't want to talk anymore, and he chose not to say anything else for a while.

As Adam went back to fiddling with a small ball of mud in his fingers, Spike took a deep breath, filling his lungs fully. He looked up and around, marveling at how blue the sky was. The stillness around them was only pervaded by the chirping of a sparrow as it flitted and glided just inches from the grass of the field.

The youngest bionic was beginning to doze off due to the warmth of the afternoon sun when he was awoken by a little nudge to his side. He looked up and gave a look of annoyance to his older brother, who asked "Want to help me make teeth out of mud?"

Spike wrinkled his nose, asking " _What?_ "

"I'm making a bunch of fake sets of teeth out of different things, just in case I lose mine someday," Adam explained. "I've already made some out of clay, old candy, rocks, corn, and now mud."

"Good luck with that," Spike said insincerely, adding "I am _not_ helping you."

"We could make you some too," Adam offered.

"Not happening, numbskull."

"Suit yourself," Adam shrugged, returning his attention to his work. The oldest bionic didn't understand why Spike wouldn't want to have a backup set of teeth – with all the fighting he did, it would be a wonder if he managed to keep all of his teeth.

Adam glanced back at his younger brother, who had closed his eyes once more. Well, he was not technically his younger brother, but an app that was controlling him. Adam frowned; he was actually starting to think of Spike as being his little brother too.

The oldest teen looked back at his hands, pondering Spike's dilemma. The Davenport kids knew full well what it was like to feel like they didn't belong anywhere, but since being introduced to the outside world for the first time, they had each found their own niches. But Spike was still just jumping into the water of the real world, and he hadn't quite figured out how to swim yet. And he was certain that rugby would be where he learned.

If he could get back onto the team.

Adam wished that Spike could breathe underwater – that would make everything so much easier.

 _Since you aren't able to swim yet, I'll just have to help you – that's what I'm here for,_ Adam thought as he watched the team arrive back from their run. It had only been a little less than thirty minutes, but Spike had slipped into a catnap. Adam decided to take the opportunity to do what big brothers do best – help their little siblings.

"Yo! Matty!" Adam said loudly as he approached the team.

The players looked at each other in confusion – they didn't have a Matt, much less a _Matty_ on the team – and Matic asked "Are you talking to _me?_ "

"Dude, I said your name," Adam stated.

"My name isn't Matty, it is Matic."

"Right, Matty."

Matic rolled his eyes, walking over. This was the guy who had been sitting on the bleachers all of practice – did that mean that this was Spike's older brother? "What do you need?" the Slovene asked.

"I need you to let Spike back on the team, or else I'll… do something that Spike would do… uh, punch you, I guess," Adam tried to threaten. Yep, this was Spike's brother alright.

Matic gave the oldest bionic a look, saying "I was going to let him back on anyways."

A look of relief came over Adam's face. "Good, because I didn't want my little bro to drown!"

" _Kaj?_ " Matic asked in bewilderment, deep worry painting his expression. " _What?_ "

Adam just put a hand on Matic's shoulder, saying "He needs you guys."

"Are you saying that he would… _drown himself_ if I didn't let him back onto the team?" the Slovene asked with much concern.

"What? Where did you get that idea?" Adam asked, his face scrunched up.

Matic blinked. "You know what? Never mind. But yes, he can be on the team if he behaves. But anymore fights and he won't have a third chance."

"Good," Adam said with satisfaction and a goofy grin. "I'll go tell him!" With that, the bionic ran back to the bleachers, leaving Matic standing there, scratching his head in puzzlement. The Slovene honestly had no idea what had just happened.


	30. Chapter 30

"Spikey! Spikey, wake up!" Adam shouted, shaking the commando app roughly.

Before his eyes were even all the way open, Spike grabbed Adam's hand and bent it backwards, causing the oldest to yelp. "Don't call me that!" the app snapped.

Adam pried his fingers from the vice-like grip of the youngest bionic, shaking the pain from his hand. "Guess what? I got you back onto the team!"

"What?" Spike asked, shaking the last cobwebs of sleep from his mind.

"Yeah, you can go run and stuff now! But if you fight anyone again, you can't be on the team."

Spike raised his eyebrows. It wasn't very often that someone would do something nice for him. "Didn't I tell you I didn't need your help?" he growled, but his eyes gave away his gratitude. Adam picked this up, and only gave him a grin in reply.

Without another word, the app leapt to his feet, making his way to rejoin the rest of his teammates. Adam couldn't help feeling proud of himself and happy for his brother. That's what big brothers were for.

* * *

The commando app sunk to the ground, closing his eyes and moderating his breathing. Deep in, slow out. He shifted the majority of his weight over his hands, balancing on the tips of his toes and his left knee. He let his mind clear, focusing on the churned dirt that crept underneath his fingernails, the scraggly and abused grass of the field tickling his forearms.

 _Victorious. I will be nothing but victorious,_ Spike told himself, feeling his heartbeat slow to a steady _thump, thump, thump._ He licked his lips in anticipation, swiping his tongue over his bile-covered teeth once.

"Go!" Matic shouted, his voice like a thunder-clap in the stillness. Spike's eyes snapped open simultaneously, forcefully blowing out his breath as he exploded forwards.

Each step catapulted the bionic from the ground, his arms pumping back and forth violently; he felt like he was flying. He spared a quick look around him and was pleased to see that he had left the rest of the team in the dust.

Pouring in all of his remaining energy, Spike made a last valiant sprint over the finish line, pounding to a stop in time to see his teammates come to a gasping stop, Pedro bringing up the rear of the stampede.

"That's how you win a race, ladies!" Spike shouted through fading gasps, his fists raised in triumph. When he saw the sour looks he was given, especially from Matic, the app amended his earlier statement. "I mean, uh, good job guys."

No one was impressed.

"Hey guys, great first practice," Matic said, quieting conversations as he led the team back to their equipment. "Even if it was… a little rough, you all worked hard. Good job."

There was a pause as the team nodded in agreement, coming to a stop as they reached their destination. Most of the players plopped to the ground, taking off their shoes and socks as they began sucking down their sun-warmed water.

"We will have practice at the same time tomorrow, right here again," the Slovene continued. "Don't be late and be ready to work hard."

"Ay ay, captain!" Jem shouted, and light laughter swept through the group.

"Go home!" Matic laughed, waving off his team as he began walking to the school parking lot, groups of two's and three's following amiably after him.

Spike remained where he was, taking one last swig of water before slowly making his way over to the oldest bionic. "Time to go, meathead!" Spike called to his older brother. Without turning to make sure his brother had heard him, the app quickened his pace as he strode back to the school. His belongings were still in his gym locker.

"Wait for me!" Adam yelled from behind the youngest bionic, but already his voice was sounding distant. Spike smiled smugly.

Spike was pushing open the school doors when Adam finally caught up, clutching his hard work to his chest. "Wow, you walk fast!" the oldest puffed.

"Or maybe you're just really slow," the app replied brusquely as the two walked down the deserted hallway. Most of the lights were off, the only life being the janitors meticulously scrubbing the floors with their worn-out mops.

"Ughhh," Adam groaned as he lowered his hands, revealing crushed clumps of mud in his hands, some of the mess smeared on his shirt. "My teeth! Their ruined!"

"You have fake teeth too?" the boys heard from behind them, and they whirled around to see Principal Perry poking her head around the doorframe of her office.

"Yeah, see?" Adam said, holding out his hands like a child would.

"Those aren't fake teeth," Perry scoffed. " _These_ are fake teeth." She lifted her lips to reveal ghastly gray teeth planted in swollen, pale gums. The bionics cringed in disgust at the sight. "This is what you get when your opponent rigs your four-wheeler right before you go off of a jump at the national championships."

"I bet you panicked and screwed up the jump, blaming your opponents for your weakness," Spike deadpanned, smirking at Perry's outraged expression.

"You weren't there! You don't _know!_ " Perry exclaimed, her face beat red.

The commando app only gave her a nasty smile. He knew he was right.

"What are you doing here anyway, pinky-pie?" Perry demanded of Spike, changing the subject. "School was done a long time ago, and you and juggernaut shouldn't be here."

"That's none of your business," Spike snapped, none too happy about Perry's latest insulting nickname. He couldn't help it if his face was flushed from exercise.

"Oh, it's my business since you are delaying my cat karaoke[6]."

The boys' faces were scrunched at the statement, but before Spike could say anything, Adam said "Spike's on the rugby team."

Perry snorted, turning to the app and saying "What's a doll like you playing rugby? You know that it's dangerous and you could get hurt, right?"

"Dangerous only for… well, whatever you are," Spike snarled.

"Oh please, I played professional rugby in Wales for two months before they kicked me out of the league for 'unsportsmanlike behavior,'" Perry replied in a tone filled with repugnance as she rolled her eyes. "Those wussies couldn't take a hit or two below the belt, so what chance do _you_ have at surviving?"

"A chance better than yours."

"Watch it, squatmug, or you'll get yourself into more detention!" Perry warned, glaring at Spike and Adam before retreating back into her office.

Spike was about to retaliate, but Adam grabbed his arm and began dragging him away. "Get off of me!" the app snapped, shaking off Adam's grip.

"Don't get us in trouble, I don't have any not-destroyed fake teeth with me if she knocks mine out," Adam explained. Spike only rolled his eyes in exasperation.

Five minutes later Spike was closing his gym locker, squashing his sweaty hair back under his backwards-turned hat. Slinging his bag over his shoulder, he walked out of the locker room and into the hallway where Adam was waiting. When Adam saw Spike, he caught up to the app, and the two began walking home.

"I'm glad that we can go home after school tomorrow; the Leaning Towhair of Pisa needs work," Adam said into the silence.

Spike gave his brother a look, saying "You can go home tomorrow, but I have rugby practice, nugget-head."

"Again?" Adam whined.

"It's after school every day until who-knows-when."

"Awww." Adam slumped in disappointment.

"You don't have to come."

"Yes I do! I promised I would to Mr. Davenport!"

"Just go do something else and say you were watching me – he would never know."

"But I would know – and so would you."

"I won't say anything to him."

"But I promised!"

"Ugh!" Spike exclaimed, coming to a halt. Adam did as well, turning to face his little brother. "What's it going to take to get rid of you?" the app demanded irritably.

Adam's expression fell, and he turned to continue walking back to the mansion without a word. The rest of the walk was in silence, and when they made it to their destination, the oldest immediately cleared out of the main living room. Spike sighed in relief at not having his brother clinging to him anymore. He didn't need anyone, _especially_ Adam.

* * *

[6] If the reader feels so inspired, searching for _CATS Karaoke_ and imagining Perry singing along with some ridiculous lyrics about cats may be satisfying. Or maybe not.

* * *

 **AN: Hey friends, whatcha all thinkin'? Spike's behavior with Adam - your thoughts? How do you think it's going to develop, if it does?**

 **If I'm correct in anticipating your responses, the better question might be _'How does this make you feel?'_ :P**

 **On a side note, a little fun fact about Asori here: my most misspelled word/name was actually Spike, believe it or not. I always catch myself typing it as PSike xD To the authors out there (and really, anyone in general), what is your most misspelled word?**

 **Before I call it a day, I just want to take a moment to thank all of you for being so wonderful with your favorites, follows, and reviews! You guys are truly great, and y'all might just be my favorite people :D**

 **So yeah, I'm out of things to say now. See you all later in Chapter 31!**


	31. Chapter 31

"So, how did rugby go today?" Mr. Davenport asked, casually leaning against the cyber-desk.

"Good," Spike grunted as he fixed his bootstrap. He had been the first bionic to respond to Mr. Davenport's call for training; Adam and Bree had yet to even enter the lab.

"No one got injured?"

"Not seriously," Spike replied elusively. Leo looked over from his Mission Specialist desk with interest.

"Anyone injured because of you?" Mr. Davenport pried.

"Maybe a bruise or two." Spike stood back up, staring down the billionaire. The man no longer flinched at making eye-contact with the app, and Spike was not entirely sure how he felt about that. _Am I losing respect?_ he wondered.

"It wasn't because of fighting, was it?"

Spike chose not to answer, his expression as stoic as stone.

"Spike," Mr. Davenport said warningly.

"Like I said, no more than bruises," Spike replied tonelessly, never blinking. Mr. Davenport was beginning to grow visibly unnerved, and this gave the app some satisfaction and reassurance, even if he didn't show it. He _hadn't_ let them grow too comfortable.

Without warning, there was a strong gust of wind, and Bree and Adam appeared in the lab. The staring contest between the mogul and the app was broken as they both turned to look to the newcomers.

"Sorry we're late, Mr. Davenport!" Bree apologized, unhooking her arm from Adam's and rushing to her capsule, Adam close behind. It would be only a matter of seconds before they were ready to start training.

"It's alright, but please be quicker next time," the tech mogul responded. After a long pause, he turned back to the commando app, continuing with the interrogation. "Spike, why did you get in a fight?"

"Actually, he got into _three_ fights," Adam stated as he stepped out of his capsule. Spike's head whipped around, and he shot his older brother a death glare. "And he got kicked off the team, but his leader-captain-thingy is giving him a second chance," Adam added.

"What!" Mr. Davenport exclaimed. Bree and Leo came over, their interest peaked.

"Three fights, and they still let you come back on?" Leo questioned in surprise.

"This one senior started the first two, and he and his friend got kicked off the team," Spike explained.

"But you started the third?" Mr. Davenport asked.

"Trent had it coming," Spike muttered, and Leo nodded gravely. Bree only rolled her eyes – why did boys have to be so aggressive?

"And they _still_ let you back on the team?" Leo asked again, his eyebrows raised high. "And wait – _Trent_ is on the team?"

"I think letting you play rugby was a bad idea," Mr. Davenport said to Spike grimly. "You know what? Let your captain know that you're quitting, and don't go to practice tomorrow."

Spike glowered at the billionaire, his face growing red with anger. Unable to contain it any longer, he exploded. "No! No, I am _not_ quitting the team! Matic let me back on, and I promised I wouldn't fight anymore!"

"Can you keep that promise?" Mr. Davenport asked dubiously.

"It's not that I _can,_ but that I _will,_ " Spike growled.

The mogul studied the app carefully, his face set in a dour expression. He couldn't deny that he approved of Spike's statement, and his perception of the app grew a little more positive. He could respect that mindset. "Fine; you can stay on the team. But you are accountable to not only your captain, but also your teammates and me as well."

"And me," Adam added, stepping forward and up to his oldest little brother. He looked down at the app, long and hard. "You're accountable to me too."

"You wish," Spike sneered.

"He's right, Spike," Mr. Davenport interceded. _So much for respecting Spike a bit more,_ the billionaire thought with disappointment. "You're accountable to him too, since he _is_ taking time out of his day to watch over you."

"I don't need him!" Spike shouted at Mr. Davenport. Turning back to the oldest bionic, Spike got up in Adam's face as much as he could, poking him in the chest without any gentleness. "I. Don't. Need. You. _Got it,_ meathead?"

"Oh I got it, alright," Adam said in a dangerously quiet voice, moving forward and in doing so, pushed Spike back. He grabbed the front of Spike's training suit, picking him up so that they were level. "Loud and clear," Adam growled.

"Put me down, or I'll use your kidney as a football!" Spike shouted in outrage. He kicked and hit the older boy, but Adam was too sturdy and strong to be overpowered by a trapped and flailing commando app.

"No," Adam said, a smirk crawling onto his face. "This will teach you that I'm bigger, stronger, older, and _in charge._ " The oldest had had enough with the way Spike treated him, and he wanted to settle this for once and for all.

"I said, put me _down!_ " Spike roared, throwing his arms out as he used his molecular kinesis to separate himself from Adam. The two bionic boys flew to opposite sides of the room. There was an awful crack, and Spike crumpled into a heap on the floor.

"Chase!" Mr. Davenport cried out, running to the side of the youngest bionic with Bree and Leo close behind. The billionaire helped his adopted son sit up, the bionic groaning as he did so.

"I'm Spike, _not_ Chase!" Spike said vehemently, swaying slightly. He reached back to touch the back of his head, wincing at how tender it was. When he brought his gloved hand back in front of him, it was dotted with dark red liquid that was almost invisible on the black fabric. Blood.

The app shook his head a little, trying to clear the dizziness. _Yow. That actually hurt._ He blinked several times, a moan escaping him.

"Spike, are you okay?" Bree asked, her concern evident.

"Yeah, that sounded like it hurt," Leo added.

Adam walked over to join the rest of his present family members, feeling conflicted between guiltiness and… jealousy. No one had come over to make sure that _he_ was okay.

"Maybe Spikey shouldn't train with us today," Adam suggested, knowing full well that he was provoking the app. Adam's expression betrayed him to the app, who only grew angrier at his older brother.

"I'm well enough to kick your butt ten times over," Spike challenged, struggling to climb to his feet. With another violent shake of his head, the app stumbled to the cyber-desk, leaning on it a moment as his dizziness cleared. That was better; now he was able to focus on his current target.

"No Spike," Mr. Davenport commanded. "Adam's right, you should take it easy for the rest of the day. That was a pretty hard knock to the head."

"Stuff it, Davenport," Spike snapped. "Today's training is one on one combat, _with_ bionics."

"No, it's not," Mr. Davenport argued, and with an arm out to each belligerent, he stood between the angry app and a seething Adam. "You both need to _calm down._ "

"No!" Spike shouted, and he bound the billionaire with his molecular kinesis. The inventor went stiff and silent; he was squeezed too tight to even breathe properly.

"Let go of him!" Bree demanded, rushing over to the app and reaching out to grab him. But Spike turned suddenly, stopping her with his molecular kinesis as well. His face was turning red with the effort, but the challenge didn't stop him from forcing them each into a capsule. Switching his focus to the capsule doors, he held them shut against Mr. Davenport's and Bree's attempts to break out, sighing in relief as soon as he locked the capsule doors.

Spike turned to Leo, the app's eyes blazing with adrenaline-induced madness. "Don't get any ideas, mole-rat," he growled.

Leo gulped, putting his hands up. In a high-pitched voice he squeaked "You know what? I think I'll just go into one of those lovely capsules too."

Spike nodded in hard-edged approval, watching him go. As soon as the non-bionic was in the third capsule, the youngest bionic locked it as well. "Now where were we?" Spike asked Adam in a low voice before turning around, taking a strong stance as he faced his older brother.

"We were at the part where I beat you up," Adam said confidently, his expression set.

"Guys, don't do this!" Mr. Davenport pleaded. He had given up trying to pound his way out by now – the capsules were made to be strong enough to withstand Adam. "One or both of you could get hurt!"

Spike ignored the mogul, keeping his glare locked on the oldest bionic. "Let's see what you've got, pretty-boy," he snarled, stalking up to the larger boy.

"I can't wait to show you," Adam said leeringly, throwing the first punch.

Spike ducked it easily, making to sock Adam in the gut as he did so, but the oldest bionic caught Spike's fist, working to crush it in his larger hand. The commando app clenched his fist harder, gritting his teeth as he fought the strongman's crushing strength. In an effort to break Adam's focus, the app swung at the older boy's head with his free hand, but Adam caught that punch as well, this time at the wrist.

"I've got you now!" Adam gloated, forcing Spike downwards inch by inch. The oldest soared through elation, taking pride that he could beat the app when it really counted. He truly was the alpha.

"Uhhhnnn," Spike grunted, squeezing his eyes shut as he put all of his effort into staying upright. While the commando app was incredibly strong, in a contest of strength, he could not win against the bionic ability of super-strength. He slowly sunk to his knees, and from there backwards onto his back, being pushed into a pinned position by his older brother.

 _No! This is_ not _how I will go down!_ Spike thought, and sucking in a breath, he brought his feet up and exploded into Adam. While Adam had widened his stance as he bent lower over his brother, he was not prepared for the power of Spike's double-kick upwards into his stomach.

All of Adam's air escaped him as he flew backwards, skidding on his back across the floor. He groaned, squeezing his eyes tightly shut as he recovered from the shock. Gasping, his eyes opened and locked on the commando app in time for him to realize his danger and roll out of the way of Spike's next attack.

Adam pushed himself up to his feet, jumping backwards to avoid Spike's roundhouse kick. Switching gears, the oldest shot lasers at Spike, catching the app off guard. The youngest bionic dove out of the way, activating his force-field in time to block the next round of heat-vision shots.

Still behind his force-field, Spike attempted to grip Adam with his molecular kinesis as he had gripped his sister and the billionaire. But as soon as he activated the ability, the commando app felt a shock of pain course through him, and he collapsed, writhing on the floor.

Adam immediately stopped his attack, looking at the app in disbelief. Was this a trick? He didn't think so. He looked to his father-figure, younger sister, and youngest brother, seeing his shock mirrored on their faces. They were pressed against the glass of the capsules, worry coloring their features.

The oldest looked back to the youngest bionic, who had fallen still and unconscious by then. He quickly went over to the app, kneeling down to examine him. "Spike?"

There was no response.

Adam picked up his younger brother, and going over to the cyber-desk, unlocked the capsules. The other three immediately crowded around the boys.

"What happened?"

"Is he okay?"

"Why is he unconscious?"

"Adam, what did you do to him?"

"I don't know!" Adam cried out. "I don't know." Guilt coursed through the oldest bionic, and he knew that he had not only failed his younger brother, but also his entire family. He was supposed to be the _defender_ of his siblings, not their attacker. "I'm sorry, Chasey," Adam whispered, beginning to grow choked up.

"Here, let's get him into his capsule," Mr. Davenport said, taking charge. When the youngest bionic was in place, the tech mogul locked the capsule and set it to scan him.

It was a small number of moments before the scan was complete, and after inspecting the report, Mr. Davenport said "He put too much strain on his system… but with time in his capsule, he'll be okay."

The gathered family members sighed in relief, but this news did not ease Adam's remorse. He wasn't sure that anything could.


	32. Chapter 32

_Cold and dark, all around… wires and switches, circuit boards… suffocating heat… laughter… blinding brightness, people all around… time ticking away…._

Spike's breathing grew ragged, and he unconsciously arched his back.

 _Beeping, flashing lights, running numbers… the scratching of pencils on paper… wind whipping all around… an explosion of overpowering salty experience on the tongue…._

The commando app was sweating profusely. He couldn't stop himself from shaking.

 _Gut-churning pain… steaming stenches from the cooking of rotting garbage… ringing, ringing, deafening ringing… a warm embrace…._

"Ahhhh!" Spike cried out. He was on the floor of his capsule now, clutching his head. "Get out!"

 _Get out._

"Go away! Leave me alone!"

 _No!_

Hatred – burning hatred – swelled up within the youngest bionic. Hatred for what was lost, for what had been taken. Hatred for the commando app.

"I hate myself," Spike whispered.

"Chase hates me."

This was a hatred so strong that it brought the app near to tears, to the point of wanting to deactivate. He could no longer stand himself.

"Please, please…" Spike pleaded, clenching his fists so hard that his nails dug into the flesh of his palms. He worked his jaw, trying to grind away the pain.

 _Rough rope burning bare skin… crying… sparks flying, metal singing… buzzing chatter filling the air… the hum of uncertainty, of sweet victory…._

"You've lost, Chase!" Spike gasped, fighting the barrage of sensory pleasures and pains that overcame him. "This is my life now!"

 _No…._

"Stop!"

"Stop…."

Slowly the fit passed, Chase's overwhelming memories and feelings fading. Spike was left alone in his numbness. He remained that way for a long time.

Finally, at one point, he looked up and around him; seeing that Adam and Bree were still sound asleep gave him a small sense of relief. Thank goodness for sound-proof capsules.

Spike shook his head, trying to shake away the shock of what had just happened. _I took it too far today,_ the youngest bionic realized. _Between klunking my head, exerting myself in practice and fighting Adam, and then… I'm not sure what happened, but it must be related to using my molecular kinesis… I really overdid it. And Chase was even stronger than last time…._

He shook his head once more. _Dang…._

* * *

"Why do you hate me so much?"

Spike absentmindedly tapped his pencil on the dining table, mulling over that crucial question. He was sure that he knew the answer, but he wondered if there was more to it than what he thought.

He was sitting under the lone light partially illuminating the main level of the mansion, darkness shrouding the rest of the large room. Unable to fall back to sleep after his 'little' episode, the bionic had gone upstairs where he could be alone.

The commando app sighed, pushing away his homework. He had realized that in all the chaos the day before, he hadn't finished it, and so he had had the mind to do so with the time he now had. But the problem was that he couldn't focus on it, and trying to finish it would be pointless. Screw homework, anyway.

"Let's see: I always win, I'm better with the ladies, I'm not a quivering coward," Spike listed aloud, but he stopped, shaking his head. Those weren't good reasons for Chase to hate him unless Chase was jealous of him. And from what Spike could tell, that wasn't the case.

 _I don't know, I think I'm a pretty likable person,_ Spike thought to himself. But he couldn't help the snort of disbelief that escaped him; nobody liked him.

 _Why_ don't _people like me?_ he wondered. _It's not that I want to be liked – I don't have a problem with that – but I'm curious and I want to at least know_ why.

Spike drummed his fingers, pondering this. He never did anything without reason, but other people must consider those reasons to be the wrong ones. Or maybe his words and actions weren't the right responses to those reasons? Could it be both? The app wasn't sure.

 _What were Chase's reasons for what he said and did? What makes him so much better than me in the eyes of others?_

A thought struck the app. _Usually people pour out their petty feelings in a diary if they are too weak to keep it to themselves – I'm willing to bet that Chase has a diary._ He smirked, finding it too humorous to be disappointed in his alter-ego.

 _But how do I find that diary?_

 _Okay, what do I know about Chase? He's nerdy, he's weak and pathetic, he's a tech wiz…._

 _Oh, come on!_

 _I hate working with computers! But an electronic diary is the only diary that makes sense – any hard copy could be found by the others. But then again, Davenport could easily find an electronic file as well._

 _But maybe not; not if it's stored on his bionic chip._

Spike closed his eyes, activating his full access to his super-intelligence. Keeping his focus centered on his own thoughts, he utilized his past practice time by not being overwhelmed by the capabilities and calculations of the ability.

 _Files… the files are stored in here somewhere… aha!_ Spike scanned the titles of the long list of innumerable files, looking for one that might lead him to the answers he was looking for. He noticed that there was a file on Adam, and the app opened it, briefing over it. It listed abilities, relationships with the rest of the family, past experiences, and comentary.

A couple lines caught the app's attention: _…while he likes to give me a hard time (too much, for the record), I never doubt that he looks out for me. Sometimes it's borderline overprotective, but he's my brother and I love him anyways._

That was interesting – Spike had not gotten the overprotective vibe from the older boy. He had assumed it was just his dodo-brained nature to cling to people because he couldn't figure anything out on his own. Had Spike been wrong?

The commando app frowned. Why would Chase catalogue his older brother, anyways? Continuing with the rest of the search, the youngest bionic discovered that there were similar such files on every person Chase knew. This was a nerd's version of a diary. _He is one strange kid…._

Another realization struck the app – this one more on the minor side – and he skipped down to the S's. And sure enough, Spike saw his name. He opened the file.

 _SPIKE_ _: my commando app, triggered by substantial anger, embarrassment, and/or fear._

 _ABILITIES: unknown._

 _PERSONALITY: unknown – I have not seen him in action. But everyone is afraid of him, and thus afraid of me. Does he even have a personality? He is artificial, after all. But then again, so is Eddy, and he is annoying._

 _PAST ENCOUNTERS: none. I can't meet him. It's either me or him._

 _RELATIONSHIPS: none. He is considered a villain by all._

 _APPEARANCES:_ _mine. We can say appearances are when I'm not in control: training, training, playing with Adam and Bree, training, Christmas, training, first day of school (twice), training, school talent show (twice)._

 _MY THOUGHTS: he sounds brutal, aggressive, and malevolent – he is often compared to a carnivorous, mean-tempered animal. He is meant to protect me, but it seems that he does more harm than good. I do what I can to keep my emotions in check so that he can't gain control of me, but sometimes I just can't stop him. He is like a demon living within me, making_ us _an atrocity. The best word to describe him: MONSTER._

Spike sat back, opening his eyes again as he deactivated his super-intelligence. One word kept echoing in his mind.

 _Monster…._

 _Monster._

 _That's what I am to them._

 _That's what I am…._

 _A monster._

* * *

 **AN: S'up peeps? What are all of you thinking so far? Yes, I know that I ask this question a lot, but I feel like the answers change every time, and I am just a curious little sucker... Goose often complains that it's almost as if I'm a psychologist ( _Now tell me, how does that make you feel?_ ) xD**

 **Thank you everyone for all of the amazing reviews, and of course, favoriting and following this story! Y'all rock and I love ya :)**

 **At this point, there is going to be another intermission. To ease your pain of separation (if my story is really that riveting), I will be posting the more interesting excerpts of Chase's 'diary' on the third day of that week-long break (Tuesday). Keep your eyes open for _Diary of a Nerdy Bionic_ and later, Chapter 33!**


	33. Chapter 33

Spike slowly shut his locker, his eyelids drooping. Letting his arms relax so that his book-bag lowered to the ground, he leaned his forehead against the soothing metal, closing his eyes. A mere few hours of sleep were not enough to serve the app's needs, and he wasn't sure how he would make it through the day.

Suddenly his shoulder was grabbed and shaken, jolting him awake. The app blinked with an irritable grunt, looking up to see one of the rugby players… no, a _former_ rugby player – Steve – standing there, a scowl on his face.

"Twerp, I was talking to you!" Steve growled.

Spike glowered up at him, having a mind to teach this senior a lesson. But he thought back to Matic's warnings from the day before, and he grew annoyed. No more fighting if he wanted to stay on the team.

"Go away, nugget-head," Spike muttered sullenly, lifting his bag up and slinging it over his shoulder. "I've got better things to do." He turned to force his way past the older boy, but Steve's grip on the app's shoulder only tightened, stopping him in his tracks.

"Do you, now?" the football player said quietly. "I wasn't done with you, you know."

"I do know, but _I'm_ done with _you._ " Spike made to leave again.

"You don't have a say in this!" Steve exclaimed, pulling the app back into place.

"Hey guys, what's up?"

Steve and Spike turned to see Adam walking up, the oldest bionic's expression anything but casual.

"This doesn't involve you, Adam," Steve snapped.

"Yeah, back off, pea-brain," Spike added nastily; he could take care of himself. The app glanced just behind Adam, where Kenzi was standing with one of her friends. If she looked over and saw what appeared to be Adam saving him from being bullied…. No, that was _not_ going to happen.

"Too bad, 'cause you need to help me with my math homework," Adam said to Spike pointedly. The oldest bionic didn't actually _have_ math homework for that day, but it was a good excuse to get Spike out of this brewing fight.

"I hope you don't need him in one piece for that," Steve snarled.

Adam stepped right up to Steve, pushing Spike back behind him. "You stay away from my little brother!" he said in a quiet voice with all the intensity of a roar.

Steve eyed Adam, sizing up the oldest Davenport kid. He was dismayed that the bionic was larger than him and also appeared to be stronger than him. The football player's eyes narrowed. "I have to get to class," he grumbled, pushing past the brothers.

When Steve was gone, Adam turned around to face his younger brother, but he was surprised to see that the app was glaring at him.

"What did you do that for?" Spike demanded, his fists clenched.

"You didn't want my help?" Adam asked. He had expected the younger boy to be grateful.

"No! I never have, and I never will!"

"Well too bad; that's what big brothers do. Get used to it," Adam spat.

"Then get used to having your face smeared on the floor," Spike threatened. "Of anyone, I'm the person people should be afraid of – not protecting! That includes you!"

"You were meant to protect Chase, right?" Adam asked, but he continued before the app could answer. "Well guess what? I also take care of my little brother. Get in line. Well, actually, there isn't much of a line, but you still have to wait your turn!"

Spike rolled his eyes in exasperation. _I guess Chase was actually right about the protective part,_ the commando app thought with irritation before returning his attention to the argument at hand. "This isn't about Chase," Spike snarled. "Don't ever speak that name again!"

Adam looked like he had been slapped, but his expression clouded over with anger. "Don't like that name, do you?"

"I hate it," Spike growled.

"Chase."

Spike shot the older boy a death glare.

"Chase," Adam said again, a smirk appearing on his face.

"Shut up!"

"Chase. Chase. Chase. Chase."

Spike's arms shot out, grabbing the front of Adam's shirt and dragging him down to eye level. "Say that name again, and I will carve out your lungs to play them as bag pipes," Spike threatened in a low voice. "Have fun saying anything then!"

"Uh uh uh, no fighting for you – otherwise you'll get kicked off the rugby team. _Again,_ " Adam reminded the younger boy smugly.

Spike lifted his lips into a snarl, shoving Adam away and spinning on his heel to walk to class.

"Chase. Chase. Chase," Adam chanted, calling it louder and louder as the app walked further away from him.

" _Shut up!_ " Spike yelled. Several heads turned in the direction of the bionics, but neither of the two cared. They were too angry with each other to care.

"Chase! Chase! Chase! Chase! Chase! Chase! Chase!"

Spike stormed into his Advanced Calculus class, slamming the door shut behind him. There was a surprised and annoyed "Hey!" from someone behind him who had almost had their face smashed in.

The app plopped down at his desk with a huff, burying his face in his arms on his desktop as he tried to block out Adam's taunting. He felt like murdering someone – but that would also get him kicked off of the rugby team. _Dang it, Matic!_

"Spike?"

Spike looked up dourly to see Mr. Hoffman standing in front of him. "What?" the app snapped.

"Is everything alright?" the teacher asked kindly. Upon hearing Adam's heckling and then the youngest bionic coming into class in such a foul mood, he felt the urge to step in. When it came to personality disorders, Mr. Hoffman was especially touchy and had sympathy for anyone with one.

"Ughhh," Spike groaned, burying his face once more. "Fine," he growled.

"Is there anything I can do?"

"Are you still a decent sniper?" the commando app asked into his desk.

"What?" Mr. Hoffman asked, caught off guard. "Yes, I am."

"Then take out that _dumb-nut oaf_ for me, will ya?"

The old man couldn't help chuckling, saying "Lighten up, Spike," before walking back to his desk.

"Don't tell _me_ to lighten up, you over-grown walnut," Spike sourly grumbled more to himself than to the already-out-of-earshot teacher.


	34. Chapter 34

"Stop, stop, stop!" Matic shouted over the grunts and grumbles of the rest of the rugby team. It took several moments for the team to respond, and the Slovene simply stood in silence while he waited for the rest of the guys to stand back up straight and listen. "Some of you don't know how to tackle."

"Well, some of us are soccer players, and if you haven't noticed, you don't tackle people in soccer – at least not with your hands," Henry replied defensively.

Matic sighed. "Alright, we will go over it. It is easier than you think. You football players already know this. Can two of you demonstrate for me?"

The football guys looked around at each other, Trent stepping forward and smugly saying "I'll be the tackler. Who wants to be my dummy?" The quarterback looked to Spike with a nasty glint in his eye.

The commando app's eyes narrowed. He was not about to back down from a challenge. Before anyone else could reluctantly volunteer, Spike snidely said "I'll do it, and we'll see who's the real dummy when we're done."

As the bionic went to stand up in front of the group and face Trent, Matic gestured to the two of them that they pay attention to him. "I don't want to have to be a referee, got it?" Matic warned in a low voice.

Trent and Spike nodded, turning back to glare at each other. Matic walked around them so that he could speak to the rest of the team, beginning to explain the basic form.

"You're not a football player, Spike," Trent sneered quietly. "Do you even know how to tackle?"

"Can I bash your face in? The answer is the same, princess," Spike growled.

Trent's face darkened immediately, and he unconsciously brushed his nose with his finger where Spike had broken it nearly three weeks ago.

The Slovene turned back to the two of them, saying "Are you ready?" When both Trent and Spike nodded, Matic stepped off to the side, saying to the rest of the team "Watch carefully."

"On my count of three," Trent said, his smirk reappearing on his face. "One… two-"

Spike lunged forward at the exact same time that Trent did, the bionic diving even lower than the football player to drive his shoulder into Trent's stomach as the app grabbed his opponent's waist. Spike's momentum overpowered Trent's and they whammed into the grass, the bully groaning as he hit the ground with the app on top of him.

"Why'd you go on two? I said on the count of three!" Trent moaned.

"You also went on two!" Spike breathily pointed out, rolling off of the older boy. The two of them sat up, looking to see that the rest of the team was snickering, Matic shaking his head with laughter.

"What are you chuckle-nuggets laughing at?" Spike demanded as he climbed to his feet, brushing himself off. Trent followed suit.

"You two are a lot more alike than you think you are," Matic explained, unable to hide his mirth. Spike and Trent glared at each other. "Anyways," the captain said, "thank you for the good demonstration." Turning back to the rest of the team, Matic asked "What did you guys notice?"

"They're both cheaters," Jem supplied, and there were light sniggers all around.

Stifling his smirk of amusement, Matic pressed "How about their form?"

A football guy, Lucas, piped up. "Spike won because he got lower than Trent and knocked him off balance."

"But I don't understand how Spike won even then – he's so short!" another football player, Pedro, added.

"Not as short as your warm-ups!" Spike countered hotly.

"Spike," Matic said warningly. Spike shot his captain a look before falling silent, glaring daggers at the rest of the team.

"Spike must be pretty strong if he beat Trent, even with height and weight against him," Tyler – yet another football player – observed. Many of the other guys nodded in agreement. _That's right,_ Spike thought to himself in satisfaction.

"Ready to go back at it, then?" Matic asked when no one else spoke up. Without him needing to say anything else, the rest of the team got up, each boy finding his partner from earlier.

Spike sought out Carter, and the two of them found an open space to continue with the drill. "How did you get so good at tackling?" Carter asked. "You aren't even in football."

"I don't need to be," Spike replied arrogantly. "Tackling is easy."

"Dude, help me out then," Carter requested. "The only kind of tackling I know is slide-tackling, and I'm pretty sure I can't do that here."

The two took up their starting stances, and Spike began coaching the other boy (demonstrating on him, of course). The app found that this activity was a test of his patience, but he couldn't help but feel a little good; someone actually needed his help and _wanted_ it.

It was a number of minutes before Matic called an end to this particular drill, dismissing the team to get a quick drink of water. Spike was surprised that Carter didn't leave him to hang out with the other guys, but chose to stay with him. Maybe it was because they were the two youngest members of the team. Whatever the case, the commando app wasn't about to complain.

While neither of them said much as they gulped down their water, the silence wasn't uncomfortable. Spike made notice of how Carter poured a little of his water into his cupped hand and splashed it on the back of his neck. A look of relief came over the freckly face of the other boy, and Spike decided to try it too.

As the bionic pressed his wet hand to his skin, the chilled water trickled down his neck and onto his back, sending a small shiver of pleasure up his spine. He felt immediately cooler, sighing contentedly.

 _The neck has the most blood-flow, and when the cold water cools the blood as well as stimulating the nerves, the body is cooled down, bringing more comfort in hot weather and/or exercise,_ Spike's super-intelligence informed him. _Shut up,_ the app thought to himself, unable to keep a wry smile from his lips.

"Alright, let's start again," Matic said with a loud clap of his hands, rolling to his feet from his sitting position. The rest of the guys followed suit, but it would be safe to say that they did so with less enthusiasm; they were all a little sore from the previous tackling session and were not quite as thrilled about rugby as their captain was.

"We are going to do something a little different now," Matic said once they were all gathered back onto the field. "We are going to play a game called _Ships Across the Ocean_."

"Ohhh, this game," Henry said, a grin plastered on his face. While a handful of guys didn't look particularly pleased, the rest were excited. Spike only looked on with equal interest and skepticism.

"There's just one extra rule to this version – taggers can't simply tap their target, they have to tackle them so that they are on the ground in order to get them," the Slovene said. "And we are saying the chants and all."

Now Spike was really curious about this game. He had no idea what was going on, but he also had no desire to be ridiculed. He resolved to learn on the job.

"I'll start as the tagger in the middle, and the rest of you will start on the try line and run to half-pitch," Matic added as the team walked to their places, a couple of the guys glancing at each other in brief confusion. The Americans were still not entirely used to the terms the European used.

The players lined up on the nearly unidentifiable white paint flecked on the grass, most of the boys clumping together while a few outliers spread apart from the others. Spike decided that there was safety in numbers and joined the clump.

"Ships across the ocean, ships across the sea!" Matic called through cupped hands from where he was standing at quarter-field. His accent was quite thick, but there was no misunderstanding the Slovene.

"Cap'n, cap'n, can't catch me!" the rest of the team responded, Henry and Jem easily the loudest and leading their chant with vigor. Spike was frowning in confusion at this exchange and was caught off guard by the rest of the team taking off and running directly at Matic.

"Shoot!" Spike cursed, scrambling into a sprint to keep up with the others. He caught up to and began to surpass the horde of other boys when, out of the corner of his eye, he saw someone running against the flow, carving a path through a couple of his teammates.

The app glanced over to see that it was Matic, and with a "Whoa!" of surprise, spun out of the way. He broke out into a hard sprint for the half-field line, only looking back when he thought he was in the clear. The Slovene had tackled Zeke, a kid that Spike had just overtaken before Matic had come out of the blue, and the two boys were standing up and watching the last members of the team make it across the half-field line into safety.

After looking at each other and saying something quietly, Matic and Zeke turned back to the team and shouted "Ships across the ocean, ships across the sea!"

"Cap'n, cap'n, can't catch me!" the team responded, Spike adding his own voice this time. And with that, round two commenced. The rest of the game progressed in a similar manner, and Spike couldn't help growing cockier and cockier as he continually found himself in the next round until there were only three of them left – Trent, Jorge, and of course, Spike.

"Ships across the ocean, ships across the sea!" the majority of the team yelled, their sheer number making them an intimidating and seemingly impenetrable wall. This was the first round where the taggers outnumbered the runners.

"Captain, captain, can't catch me!" the remaining three bellowed in return, their better-enunciated response their battle cry. They didn't run immediately, sizing up their odds at succeeding.

"Should we work as a team?" Jorge asked, eyeing the few boys who charged at them in order to get them moving.

"No way!" Trent exclaimed. "Every man for himself!" With that he took off, making for the outskirts of the field.

"Crud," Jorge grunted, trying his luck on the other side of the field.

Spike studied how the team shifted to try to catch each boy, leaving a small hole to the left of the center. Maybe, just maybe….

The bionic's feet dug into the grass as he propelled himself forward, pumping his arms and taking as long and powerful strides as possible. He felt like his feet barely touched the ground.

He saw a group of guys spot him and begin running to intercept him, and the app poured out all of his energy, his only goal to make it through. The closest guy dived to tackle Spike, but he bent out of the way, dodging another coming right from behind the first guy.

As another kid barged into Spike's path, the guy was sent flying to the ground by a clutzy teammate coming from the other direction, the two getting into a tangle. The app leapt over them at the last second, turning to make the homestretch just as someone hit him like a freight train from the left side.

"Oomf!" Spike gasped as he was crushed underneath someone, and he looked up to see that Pedro was squishing him. "Get off!" he tried to growl, but his lungs were so compressed that it was more of a squeak.

Pedro grinned, laughing "I got you, chico!" as he got up. Spike sat up dizzily.

"And that's game!" Jem said, the boys clumping around Pedro and Spike. The app was somewhat satisfied that Trent and Jorge were also dusting themselves off.

"That is it for practice, guys. Good job, and go home!" Matic said from where he was standing at the outside of the group, and rest of the guys cheered tiredly before beginning to walk back to their equipment.

Spike had just shaken off the impact of the tackle and was following the others when Matic caught him, saying "Good work today, Spike."

Spike nodded, a smile creeping onto his face. "Thanks."

"I'm glad you're on the team," Matic added with finality, patting him roughly on the shoulder before jogging to catch up to the rest of the team.

"Me too," Spike said to himself.


	35. Chapter 35

"Mr. Davenpoooort," Adam moaned, trudging up to where the inventor and Tasha were talking at the kitchen counter.

Mr. Davenport held up his finger to the oldest bionic as he finished his thought before turning to the teen, asking "Yes, Adam?"

"I don't want to go to Spike's rug practices anymore."

"Why don't you want to go to the _rugby_ practices?"

"Because I'm bored – I finished my fake-teeth collection."

Mr. Davenport sighed. "We still need to watch Spike, though. Can't you find anything else to do?"

Adam shook his head, saying "Spike doesn't want me there anyways."

"I know, but you'll just have to hang in there."

"But he's so mean to me!" Adam whined, his hurt becoming apparent.

"Oh, sweetie, I'm sure he doesn't mean it," Tasha said, trying to comfort the oldest bionic. "That's just the way he is."

"I don't like it," Adam argued. "And he doesn't like me, anyways."

Tasha grew sad for the boy, and she looked to her husband expectantly. "Donald," she said.

Mr. Davenport sighed. "Adam, it's only been a week. I'm sure it will get better as time goes along."

The bionic once more shook his head stubbornly. "I won't do it!"

"Please?"

"Nope, not even if it's pretty and has a raspberry on top."

The mogul raised his eyebrows. He was pretty sure that it was supposed to be a _cherry_ on top, but he felt that this was not the time to correct the bionic. "Okay, then talk to Bree and see if she can help you some of the days. Maybe she can do it next week."

Adam paused, thinking about this. "Okay, I'll try."

"Good," the billionaire said with a firm nod. "Hang in there, buddy."

With that Adam left the adults, seeking out his younger sister. Where could Bree be? Maybe the lab? But if she wasn't there, where would she be?

A revelation hit the oldest like a lightning bolt. Maybe she went to Peru! Adam gasped. She did not! Not without him – he could practically see her with the llamas that _he_ wanted to see.

"Bree!" Adam yelled as he burst into the lab. "Bree Bree Bree!"

"What?" Bree asked, startled. She shoved her phone into her back pocket, saying "Is there a mission?"

Adam sighed in relief. "Good, you're still here!"

Bree blinked in confusion. "Where would I be?"

"In Peru – _without me!_ It's a good thing that you didn't leave me behind."

"Wha…" Bree mouthed, her face scrunched in annoyed disbelief. Rolling her eyes, she dug out her phone again and went back to scrolling through her social media notifications.

"Hey Bree, you want to watch some rugby for me?" Adam asked, coming to stand next to his sister.

"You mean watching Spike practice? No way," Bree replied stonily.

"Come on, pleeeeeeaaaase?"

"No," Bree snapped, glancing up to see her older brother's puppy-dog eyes.

Adam heaved a sigh. "Fine, I'll just have to sit on the bleachers every day for _forever._ "

"Okay."

"Why is everyone so mean?" Adam huffed, turning and leaving the lab.

As he rode upwards in the elevator, he pondered his predicament. If he didn't watch Spike, who would? Davenport wouldn't because he was too busy being rich and doing rich-guy-stuff, Tasha did her talky-thing on TV (which nobody watched, Adam was certain), and Bree was just being mean and wouldn't do it.

 _I know who can do it – Chase can! He's boring enough that he won't care. And if he does, I'll make him do it anyways,_ Adam thought to himself, already congratulating himself. Despite what others said, the oldest knew that he was brilliant.

 _Now to find Chase…_ Adam stopped in his tracks as he exited the elevator, his self-satisfaction sinking to nonexistence. Dang it. Spike _was_ Chase. Right? Adam didn't quite understand how all of that worked, but he knew that the youngest bionic couldn't be the one to watch himself.

"Gosh Chase, you have to ruin everything, don't you?" Adam grumbled to himself. Who could he pin the responsibility to now?

"Hi Adam," Leo greeted as he walked into the now-empty kitchen. "We need to play some video games ASAP because I need to get my detention with Perry out of my mind." The younger boy shuddered.

"Okay Leo," Adam said with a shrug. He was up for video games anytime.

Wait. Leo!

"Leo, can you be awesome for your favorite brother?" Adam asked as the two of them plopped down on the couch.

"One: I am always awesome," Leo said cockily. "And two: I don't think I'm supposed to have a favorite brother."

"Oh come on, it couldn't be nerdy little Chase, and Spike doesn't count. Is Bree in this? Because if so, then I actually have real competition."

Leo shot Adam a look of incredulity. "Bree's our _sister!_ "

"Great! Then I _am_ your favorite brother!"

Leo sighed. "What do you want?"

"I want to not watch Spike play rugby anymore."

"Uh uh, no way! One: this is _Spike_ we're talking about. Two: I'm not bionic so I doubt I'd be much help. Three: if I did, my mom would kill me if Spike didn't first. You _know_ how much she can resemble a momma bear!"

"Ugggghhhh!" Adam groaned, flopping backwards. "Spike hates me!"

"He hates _all_ of us."

"But he hates me most – he's so mean and just wants me to go away! If I didn't have to watch him, then maybe he'd be nicer to me."

"Maybe you _don't_ have to watch him."

"Don't be ridiculous, Leo. You were my last resort."

"Excuse me?" Leo asked, quite offended. "Okay, there was a chance that you'd be my favorite brother, but not anymore!"

Adam shrugged moodily.

"Do you want my help or not?" Leo asked.

"Yes," Adam mumbled.

"Maybe none of us have to be there in person – we could use a spy fly to secretly follow Spike."

Adam sat up, his hope visibly restored. "That might work, Leo!"

"Thank you, thank you very much," Leo said, giving his brother a mock-bow.

"Let's go tell Davenport!" Adam exclaimed, leaping to his feet. "Mr. Davenpoooort!"

"What, Adam?" the boys heard the billionaire call from upstairs. Adam took off running up the steps, Leo close behind.

"Mr. Davenport, can we use a spy fly to watch Spike?" Leo asked.

"Please please pleeeease?" Adam begged, sticking out his bottom lip for emphasis.

Mr. Davenport crossed his arms, giving the teens a dubious look. "Even if we can see what's going on, how will you get there to stop Spike in time?"

"It can stun people, remember?" Leo answered.

"How do you know about that feature?" Mr. Davenport questioned, giving his step-son a hard look.

"Oh, uh, no reason. Just a lucky guess!" he replied quickly.

"Leo…."

"So can we use the spy flies?"

"Yes, but who will control the fly?"

Leo looked to Adam, and the two of them shrugged. "We could take turns," Leo suggested.

"Alright, we can try it," Mr. Davenport gave in.

"Yes!" Adam whooped.

"But," the mogul cut in. "Leo, how do you know about the stun feature? I want to know _exactly_ what happened."

Leo momentarily froze before breaking into an uneasy grin, forcing a laugh. "Funny story… Adam! Let's go practice using the spy flies!" With that, the youngest bolted out of the room, Adam shrugging and taking off after his brother.

Mr. Davenport sighed, rubbing his face tiredly. "What mess am I letting them get into now?"


	36. Chapter 36

"…how you steer, and this is the screen," Leo explained, showing Adam how the watch worked. Bree rolled her eyes from where she was still sitting on one of the stools; what could her brothers possibly be doing now? _Wait – that could be a million different things, and I actually don't want to know,_ she thought to herself, returning her attention to her phone.

Then another thought struck her, and her head shot back up. "You two had better not be trying to get anything else to blackmail me with!" she snapped, interrupting Leo and garnering the immediate attention of the boys. "It's taken me long enough to get rid of what you already had!"

 _Oh, you have no idea, Bree,_ Leo snickered to himself. Out loud, he said "Actually, we're using it to watch Spike instead of Adam having to go to his practices."

Bree raised her eyebrows, asking "Really? After what happened last time you tried to use the flies?"

"Relax, Bree – I'm a master at this now. Here – I'll give you both a demonstration," Leo said confidently, walking over to his sister so that she could see the screen on the watch. Adam followed the younger boy, standing behind him.

"Alright, do your thing, Wingston fon Dooley III," Leo fondly told the little fly he held in the palm of his hand, and it took flight. "Let's find Spike."

The fly circled the room a couple times before exiting the lab, and the three teens watched the screen as the fly made its way up to the upper levels of the mansion. When it arrived on the main level, they saw that it was empty as the fake insect zoomed haphazardly through the large room.

"Let's look down the hallway," Leo suggested more to himself than to the other two, steering the fly back behind the kitchen. To his dismay, all of the rooms were empty except for Tasha dusting in one of them; it was the one with an array of Donald Davenport-themed household items. "Does that man really need a life-sized lamp-version of himself?" Leo asked in disgust. Adam and Bree were not surprised in the least.

"Could Spike be upstairs?" Bree asked, returning their attention to the task at hand.

"Let's check it out," Leo mumbled, steering the fly out of the obnoxious room. Upon reaching the next level of the mansion, Leo proceeded to check all of the rooms and found that they too were empty.

"Where is he?" Bree asked. "He's not supposed to go anywhere without supervision – he might hurt someone."

A light bulb lit Leo's mind, and he said "I think I know where he is."

"In the dishwasher?" Adam asked excitedly. "I knew it all along!"

The younger two teens gave their oldest brother a look of incredulity, Bree saying "No! Why would he be there?"

Adam shrugged. "It's a good place to hide."

"No it's not, a person can't fit in there," Bree argued, her tone dripping with annoyance.

"Yes you can, I've put Chase in there!"

"What!" both Bree and Leo exclaimed.

"It was a joke," Adam explained "but I wasn't able to close the door. And he threatened me not to tell anyone about it… ohhh…. Dang it, does this mean that I have to kill you guys now?"

"No, it doesn't," Leo said quickly. "We can keep a secret!"

Adam sighed in relief. "Good. Don't tell Chase."

"If Chase ever comes back," Bree said sadly, and that statement caused the mood to fall sharply.

Leo returned his attention back to the spy fly, commanding it to take flight again. The dialogue of the siblings had distracted the youngest teen so that the fly crashed into a wall and fell to the floor. "Anyways, I think I know where Spike might be," he said into the solemn silence.

He piloted the fly into the last spare bedroom and through an open window to the small balcony. "This is where I found him once, a few weeks ago." The bionics leaned over Leo's shoulder as the three of them looked at the screen on the watch expectantly. But as Leo turned the fly, they saw that the balcony was empty of the commando app.

"I don't understand," Leo muttered, turning the fly in circles. "He isn't anywhere else, and I would have thought for sure that he would be here."

"Leo, stop, I think I saw him," Adam said suddenly.

"What? Where?" the non-bionic asked, looking up at the oldest dubiously.

"He's in a tree," Adam replied.

Bree and Leo shot their brother a look, the middle bionic rolling her eyes and saying "Let me guess, he turned into a squirrel."

"No, but that would be awesome! I want to be a squirrel!"

"No you don't," Bree snapped. Turning to the youngest teen, she said "Leo, let's call it quits. He isn't here."

"But don't you think we should find him, _especially_ if he's not here? He's always making trouble," Leo pointed out.

"But guys, we already know where he is," Adam interjected. "He's in a tree."

"Adam, cut it out," Bree said with obvious exasperation. "This is serious."

"No, I'll show you," Adam argued, grabbing Leo's wrist and beginning to steer the fly.

"Adam!" Leo cried out in surprise, trying to tug his hand away. But it was in vain considering the bionic's super-strength.

Adam flew the fly out into the open air, the green grass of the yard a dizzying distance below them. The little machine meandered its way along at a downward angle, and to the astonishment of the younger two teens, the commando app came into clear view of the camera of the spy fly. He was sitting across two large branches with his back to the trunk of the tree, his arms loosely crossed and his hat pulled over his face. He looked to be sleeping. Thirty feet in the air.

"What is it with Spike and heights?" Leo wondered aloud.

"Maybe for once he can feel tall," Bree snorted.

"Yeah, because he's so short!" Adam added obviously. He began erratically steering the fly closer to the youngest bionic so that they could see him better.

"Watch it, Adam!" Leo cried out as the fly bumped into the side of Spike's face. The app lazily waved the air where the fly had been, not bothering to move his hat in order to see it.

Adam couldn't contain the little laugh that escaped him, a mischievous grin forming on his lips. He had just discovered a new game. He purposefully steered the fly towards Spike again, whizzing past the app's ear and grazing his chin. Spike waved his hand through the air again, this time with more force, and he shifted in his spot.

Leo giggled with Adam now, the boys taking pleasure in annoying their brother. Bree only rolled her eyes, saying "Guys, I don't think it's a good idea to make Spike mad."

"Loosen up, Bree," Adam said merrily. "This is fun!" With that statement, he drove the fly straight at Spike's cheek, _hard_. Spike jumped, scrambling to stay on the branches supporting him. He whipped his hat off of his head and began swatting madly at the fly that was now circling around him. They could hear his grumbling and cursing at the fly through the speaker of the watch.

This made Bree crack, and she brought her hand to her mouth to try to stifle her snickering. Adam and Leo were roaring with laughter by now. Pestering people with the spy fly from the controlling end was quite entertaining.

All of a sudden the camera feed from the fly began spinning in all directions, and they could distantly hear Spike's "Ha!" of victory. The app had finally hit his tiny target.

Leo extracted his wrist from Adam's hand and began to try to right the fly again, but without warning the screen began flashing red with the message ATTACK MODE ENGAGED: STUN STINGER ACTIVATED.

"What!" Leo and Bree exclaimed, a panicked Leo frantically tapping the screen and pushing whatever buttons he could. But it was no use – the fly was no longer under his control.

"Relax, guys – what's the worst that could happen?" Adam asked nonchalantly.

"Um, he could be stunned, fall out of the tree, and _die!_ " Bree practically shouted.

The three teens watched with horror as the scene on the screen unfolded. The fly began diving at the commando app, who knocked it away whenever it was close enough. His expression was of frustration and his muttered curses at the fly were vehement.

As Spike was reaching for the fly to stop another of its attempts at getting him, he slipped backwards and off of the right-most branch. With a startled yelp, he whipped his arm back behind him and grabbed a branch a little below him just in time to catch his fall.

At this point the app was stretched diagonally across three branches, gripping the higher two branches with his feet so that he might not slide into thin air, and bending backwards at the waist, he supported most of his weight against gravity with his right arm. His left hand held his hat, which he used to ward off the fly.

The youngest bionic was sweating profusely by now, and a strange emotion played across his face: terror. "Get away from me!" he yelled desperately at the fly. But in that position, there was not much the app could do to avoid the fly, and breaching the bionic's only form of defense, the fly stung its target.

Spike's eyes went wide as his muscles weakened. The fly's sting was slowly stunning him, and he began sliding off the branches that were keeping him from plummeting through countless other branches and to the ground far below.

Seeing this, Bree knew what she had to do. With a _whoosh!_ she was gone, racing outside and climbing the tree within seconds. She reached the height where Spike was just in time to grab his leg. With one arm wrapped around the tree trunk and the other holding the app's ankle in a throttle-hold, Bree's face screwed into an expression of intense effort as she tried to keep the youngest bionic from falling.

"Spike, I need you to grab that branch just above your head!" the middle bionic forced out, her voice strained. All she received in response was an angry grunt. "Oh yeah, you can't move," Bree said breathily with annoyance.

Groaning irritably, Spike tried to close his eyes, but his muscles wouldn't respond to his commands. Limply swinging upside down thirty feet in the air was making him queasy, and all the blood rushing to his head to give him a headache didn't make anything better. Being helpless sucked.

Bree looked down past her younger brother, studying the pattern of branches below. There was another cluster of branches about seven feet below them – if she could lower Spike to that cluster, she could lay him across them until the paralysis wore off.

Sucking in a quick breath, the middle bionic loosened her grip around the trunk so that they slowly slid downward. She had to grit her teeth to keep from crying out as the rough bark began shredding the skin of her right arm.

Their progress hitched when Bree reached the first branch that hindered their decent, and she moaned in frustration. What was she going to do now?

"Whad? Whyd-doo thop?" Spike slurred. He sounded so ridiculous that he felt like punching someone, but considering that he couldn't even make his tongue work right, any attempt would be futile.

Bree stifled a giggle, and when she was under control again, she answered "I'm stuck on a branch." A thought struck her, and she asked "The paralysis must be starting to wear off if you can sort of talk – can you move at all?"

Spike focused on his fingers, only managing to twitch them ever so slightly. "No," he replied sullenly.

"Alright," Bree huffed. "I can't move down anymore without dropping you, so we are going to be here until you can do something."

Spike closed his eyes with another groan. _Great. Just great. …It's sad that closing my eyes is an accomplishment at this point._ He wished that there was something he _could_ do – even just being able to actually control his fingers would be an improvement.

 _Maybe there is,_ a small voice said within him. _You're bionic, remember?_

 _But what abilities will help?_ he wondered. _Super-intelligence? Oh please. Molecular kinesis? No, not an option. Magnetism? You've got to be kidding – we're in a tree! GPS? No, stupid! Force-field? Only if I intend to fall out of control – which I don't. Levitation? …That could work. That could actually work._

"Bwee, ahm ohin doo nebidaydt," Spike tried to tell the older girl, reopening his eyes.

"What?" Bree asked. "I can't understand you."

Spike sighed crossly. Communicating wasn't any use, so he'd just have to do it. Concentrating as hard as he was able to, he activated his levitation ability and made himself start to rise up.

"What are you doing?" Bree initially cried out in surprise, but then it hit her. "You're using your levitation! Genius!"

Spike ignored the compliment, righting himself as Bree let go of him. It felt good to not have to fight gravity anymore. But now what?

"Now whad?" he asked aloud, slowly turning himself so that he could see Bree. From the expression the middle bionic wore, Spike could tell that he probably looked absurd; his limbs hung lifelessly and his head lolled to the side. _Just survive and you can reinstate respect for yourself,_ he promised himself, demanding patience from himself.

"There's a clump of branches a few feet below you – lower yourself to them and you can lay there until the stun wears off," Bree informed him as she readjusted her position.

Spike did as she said, working his way downwards slowly. If he broke focus even a little bit, he knew that he wouldn't escape this incident without _at least_ a scratch. Out of the corner of his eye he saw a blur that was Bree as she sped-climbed lower in case he should fall again.

It was with relief that he made it to the thick clump of branches, and he exhaled the breath he hadn't known that he was holding. He relaxed onto branches spiny with leaves, limply sitting with his back to the tree trunk as he had earlier.

"Are you good?" Bree asked him from the adjacent branch that she was crouched on.

"Yeth," Spike responded, giving her the best death glare that he could manage. But being that he could barely move the muscles in his face, his glare was rendered ineffective; Bree wasn't intimidated in the least.

"Alright, then I will just be going, then," the older bionic said quickly before climbing down the tree at an unrivaled speed.

"Weelee? You ah uthd ohin doo yeeb bee heeah?" Spike slurred angrily into the following silence. His only answer was the buzzing of a fly that was growing louder with every passing second. _No, no, no!_ he thought in horror as the small bug meandered its way towards him; his eyes crossed, he watched the insect land on his nose.


	37. Chapter 37

Spike landed on the lush grass with a soft thud, swaying in place for a moment. Brushing his fingertips across the tops of the thin green stalks beneath him, he regained his shaky balance and slowly rose to full height, resting his hand on the trunk of the tree for support.

Looking around dully, he spotted his hat in a crumpled heap a little to his left, and he walked carefully over to it. Rather than risking a tumble by bending over, the app merely lunged low enough to scoop it up before standing up straight again. After tenderly brushing it off, he replaced it on his head, squashing down his tussled hair. Much better.

"Now for punithment," he muttered, biting back his irritation for the lisp that still lingered. That fly had done a number on him. _What kind of fly_ was _that? Are all flies like this?_

He had a mind of where he could not only find out but also exact revenge. _Ready or not, Bree, here I come._

He clumsily stormed back into the house, startling Tasha who was chopping a tomato in the kitchen. "Spike! Is everything alright?" She eyed his rumpled clothes and the red scratches dotting his skin.

"Everything ith jutht fine," he snarled, accidentally plowing into the dining table. With a muffled moan and various curses under his breath, he guided himself around it and tried to continue on his way. But he was stopped by Tasha standing directly in front of him, a look of concern and disappointment on her face.

"Let me smell your breath, mister," she said in a stern tone, crossing her arms.

"What?" Spike asked, bewilderment screwing his facial features.

"You heard me," Tasha replied stubbornly.

Still confused, Spike did as he was told, as strange as the command was. He watched her frown in surprise, and he could practically see the gears turning in her head. "You smell clean," she stated.

"Clean?" Spike questioned.

"You haven't been drinking or doing any drugs, have you?" Tasha pressed.

Understanding washed over the youngest bionic, and he smirked. "No, I haven't."

"And you're being honest?"

"Yeth."

"But what's with the lisp? And why are you walking like you're drunk? What happened to you?" Tasha gestured to all of him.

Spike sighed. "I wath thtung by a fly."

"A fly did this to you?" the mother figure asked dubiously.

"Well, I wath in a tree."

"What? Why?" Tasha's eyes flashed with worry.

"Becauth I wanted to be alone."

"Again, how does a fly do this to you?"

Spike's eyes narrowed as his anger returned. "That'th what I'm about to find out." He shouldered his way around her (unintentionally shoving into her harder than anticipated) and made his way to the elevator in a huff.

"Don't hurt anyone!" Tasha called after him.

"No guaranteeth," the app grumbled to himself as the thick metal doors closed, cutting him off from the rest of the main level. As soon as he reached the level of the lab and the elevator doors opened, he marched (to the best of his ability) out into the lab itself, furiously shouting "Bree!"

Bree's head shot upwards at the sound of her name, her eyes widening slightly as Spike came right up to her. Adam and Leo glanced at each other nervously, coming to stand near their sister and the app.

"What happened in the tree?" Spike demanded, jabbing his finger at her.

"I… saved your life?" she offered, shooting her other two brothers a look. She absentmindedly rubbed her bandaged forearm where the tree bark had torn her skin as she recalled the earlier event.

"Thom rethcue – you left me up there! And how did you know that I wath thtunned?" the app growled.

His siblings all snickered, Leo choking "You have a lisp! You sound so funny!"

Spike darkened even further, turning on his younger brother. "Let'th thee how funny I thound when I rip off your earth[7] and uthe them ath ninja thtarth for target practith!" He tried to wave his hand to demonstrate for emphasis, but his clumsiness had not yet abated, so he accidentally whacked it on the cyber-desk. "Thoot!" he cursed, holding his throbbing fingers protectively.

Leo couldn't keep a straight face, laughing "Dude, you're killing me! Come back and threaten me when you can walk and talk again!"

Spike glowered at the non-bionic, remaining quiet and getting right in his face. Leo's laughing died as Spike's nose was inches from his own, and he gulped.

"Will do," Spike hissed, and after an extended tense moment, he stepped back. This was not merely a threat, but a promise. And Leo knew it.

The app turned back to Bree, saying "What. Happened. In. That. Thtupid. Fly-infethted. Tree? How did you know that I wath falling?"

The middle bionic blinked. "It's Adam and Leo's fault – they were playing with a spy fly!"

"Wow Bree, way to throw us under the bicycle," Adam said with irritation.

"No, she threw us under the _bus,_ " Leo corrected his oldest brother. "And, anyways, it was you who steered the fly into Spike."

Adam threw his hands up. "Now I've been thrown under _two_ busses, so I'm double dead!"

"You've got that right," Spike snapped, balling his fists.

"For the record, that fly just didn't like you because I didn't tell it to stun you," Adam said defensively.

"You activated its attack mode," Leo said dryly to the oldest bionic.

"You set me up to it!" Adam argued.

"Who warned you not to do it again?" Bree asked, giving Adam and Leo another look.

"Who left Spike in a tree?" Leo shot back.

"You're all dead!" Spike shouted over his bickering siblings, silencing them. "Now who'th firtht?" he asked menacingly.

The three at fault all looked at each other before Bree said "Well, I'll just go now. Bye!" With that she sped off.

"Okay, Bree, just leave your brothers to get beat up all by ourselves," Leo said with annoyance. Glancing at Spike, whose eyes were beginning to flash with excitement for a fight, he patted Adam's shoulder and said "Good luck with him, Adam!" before taking off.

"Jutht me and you, pea-brain," Spike stated with a nasty grin.

"Nope, just you!" Adam said before bolting out of the lab.

* * *

Spike padded down the carpeted hallway of the main level, dragging his left hand lightly on the wall for stability. His senses were on high alert, and they told him that Leo was hiding behind the kitchen counter, hoping that Tasha could give him some protection. How wrong he was.

The youngest bionic drew in a deep breath; through the fumes of cooking food he could pick out the smell of Leo's fear, which, admittedly, was kind of gross. But it brought the app to a new level of excitement; his target was close at hand and was afraid of him.

He wiggled the fingers of his right hand in anticipation, judging their movement. They still felt slowed and imprecise, but they were gradually getting better. His balance overall had improved, so now that that no longer hindered him as much, his siblings were going to be in trouble.

Spike stopped at the corner, just out of sight of the kitchen. He could hear Tasha stirring frying meat, and his stomach grumbled lightly. It had been a _long_ day, and even if it was Tasha's cooking, hot food sounded wonderful at the moment.

 _Focus,_ he reminded himself. Instead of practically drooling over dinner, the app returned the attention of his bionic senses back on the task at hand. Closing his eyes and concentrating, he could hear the frenzied beating of Leo's heart. Spike's lips twisted into a leer.

"Rawrrr!" the youngest bionic roared as he leapt around the corner without warning. Tasha jumped with a small scream, spilling hot bits of meat on the stove and all over herself.

"Spike!" Leo shrieked, scrambling to his feet and dashing around the opposite side of the counter. The non-bionic ran for the front door, frequently looking behind him.

Spike wasted no time, gracelessly catapulting himself over the counter and sprinting after the younger boy. Even through the crashes of a number of dishes and a stool, Tasha's irate shouting could be heard easily. But the boys paid her no mind as Leo fled for his life from his older brother.

When Spike was within reach of Leo, the youngest boy cut back and ducked under the bionic's klutzy grab, racing back towards the kitchen and into the hallway where Spike had come from. The app attempted to follow, but he tripped over his own two feet, toppling to the ground with a surprised "Oomf!"

Leo ran down the hallway as fast as his legs would take him, diving into Mr. Davenport's planning room where the billionaire was pacing back and forth.

"Leo, what's-" Mr. Davenport began to say.

"Hide me!" Leo squeaked, scurrying behind the mogul.

Mr. Davenport gave his step-son a confused look, calmly walking to the door and closing it. The boy sighed with relief when the lock clicked into place.

"What's going on?" the head of the household asked, his arms crossed and his eyebrows raised.

"Spike's trying to kill me!" Leo gasped as he tried to catch his breath. He was not in shape for this. All of a sudden his older siblings' physical ability enhancements weren't so cool anymore.

"What? Why?" Mr. Davenport pressed.

"Adam, Bree, and I _might_ have made him angry," Leo explained vaguely.

Their conversation was interrupted by raucous pounding on the door accompanied by Spike's bellows of "Leo! I know you're in there, cockroach! Come out here tho I can give you a tathte of your own medithine!"

Leo paled, swallowing nervously. He was certain that the door would not hold up if Spike decided to break through it.

"What's wrong with Spike? He's talking weird," Mr. Davenport asked Leo pointedly.

"He got stunned by a spy fly," Leo answered.

"It worked on him?"

"Sort of; he wasn't knocked out – which is worse for me – and the effects still haven't gone away all the way. Which is even worse for me!"

"What'th even worth[8] than that for you ith that I wath in a _tree_ when it happened!" Spike growled through the door. "Come out on your own or I will turn thith door into toothpickth tho I can drag you out by your thpleen!"

"Why are you only after me? Adam and Bree were in on it too!" Leo whimpered.

Mr. Davenport shot his step-son a look of ire, grabbing his shoulder and forcing him over to the door. "Get out there before he destroys my door!"

"But he'll kill me!" Leo whined.

"You earned this one," Mr. Davenport said with a small smirk as he unlocked the door.

"Ahhh!" Leo yelped as he was shoved out of the room and right into Spike.

"Keep him in one piece," Mr. Davenport commanded the commando app.

"No promitheth," Spike replied darkly.

* * *

[7] The word _ears,_ but because Spike has a lisp, his S's are pronounced as the TH sound. The written word is pronounced eerTH.

[8] The word _worse,_ but said with a lisp as described above.

* * *

 **AN: Ahhh, this one was fun to write. Yes LivingforJesus, we are working on Spike's humility here xD And still he insists on beating up his siblings (who probably deserve it...). PurpleNicole531, you definitely saw this one coming :P**

 **Thank you everyone for the wonderful support this story receives, through follows, favorites, and especially reviews - y'all are my favorites B)**

 **So yeah, stay tuned for the next few chapters - Chapter 38 is up next (Wow, that many already? I'd better hurry up and finish this bugger before I run out of pre-written material - I certainly couldn't maintain this pace otherwise...). See you then!**


	38. Chapter 38

"Why ithn't it getting better?" Spike demanded, his arms crossed as he glowered at those present with him in the lab.

Adam, Bree, and Leo all looked at each other, Adam and Leo tenderly rubbing their bruises uncomfortably. Bree had been the only one of the teens to escape Spike's wrath the day before; her speed, the fact that she had had no active part in the scheming, and the fact that she had likely saved Spike's life had spared her the punishment the other two had received.

Mr. Davenport pulled his head out of the cupboard he had been rummaging through, a small vile in his hand. "The stunning serum in the flies will temporarily knock out and stun a regular person, and it will temporarily immobilize a bionic, I guess. But why it's still bothering you is beyond me," he said with a shrug. "What all is wrong?"

"I feel thlower, like I have leth control of my muthlth, and I have a freaking lithp!" Spike spat. "I can't thay my etheth anymore!"

The other four all stifled snorts of amusement, growing serious again when Spike growled at them angrily.

"I'm going to run a few tests on you to see what is going on, okay?" Mr. Davenport said in an effort to soothe the enraged commando app. "You're symptoms might grow a little worse as we do this, but if it works, you won't have to experience them again. Kapeesh?"

Spike's eyes narrowed, and he gave the mogul a curt nod. At Mr. Davenport's direction, the youngest bionic went into his capsule, the billionaire following with a syringe containing a miniscule amount of the artificial venom in hand.

As he watched the needle grow closer to him, Spike had to fight every instinct that told him to swat it away and protect himself. He didn't like the thought of being poked and punctured by a small metal rod, but he knew that this was for the best. Closing his eyes and taking a deep breath, he forced himself to relax, trying not to flinch as the needle went into his skin.

Immediately he fell slack against the wall of the capsule, sliding to the floor of it. Mr. Davenport pushed the app's feet back into the capsule before shutting the door, walking back over to the cyber-desk and typing a flurry of commands.

The middle capsule glowed for a minute or two before the scan was complete, and the tech mogul pulled up the results. Adam, Bree, and Leo all came over to see, peering over and around the billionaire's shoulders.

Mr. Davenport's eyebrows rose with surprise, and he said "Spike, it looks like you're _allergic_ to one of the chemicals in this stuff. That means that your symptoms are exasperated and will take longer to recede."

"In French, please," Adam requested of Mr. Davenport.

"What?" the billionaire asked.

"Adam, you don't know French," Bree drawled.

"Isn't that what we're speaking?" Adam asked.

"No, _genius,_ this is English," Bree replied, rolling her eyes.

Adam turned back to Mr. Davenport. "Well, then say it in English."

"I did," Mr. Davenport sighed with a complete lack of amusement.

"Spike no feel good because fly is bad for him," Leo explained to the oldest bionic in exaggerated cave-man speech, just as Chase often had. Adam nodded in comprehension, and Leo shared a look of annoyance with Bree.

"Idth nothin theahiouth, ith id?" Spike tried to ask, but his words were too slurred to be understood. I hope this isn't like a peanut allergy where I could die, he thought to himself. That would make me want to strangle myself, if the venom didn't do it first.

"Sorry Spike, try asking when you can talk again," Mr. Davenport suggested to the app with a shrug. Turning back to the others, he said "As for you three, no more playing with those spy flies, especially when Spike is around." He subtly jerked his head towards the elevator, and getting the cue, Bree and Leo followed him, dragging a confused Adam along with them.

"Hey, wheah oo ohin?" they heard Spike ask desperately, but the closing elevators didn't give them the chance to respond.

Mr. Davenport turned to face the rest of his kids. "You three need to be a lot more careful if you use the flies to keep tabs on Spike – I'm tempted not to let you use them at all."

"We'll be a lot more careful, Big D. We promise," Leo said, glancing at Adam and Bree.

"You'd better," Bree grumbled. "And don't look at me – I want to have nothing to do with this."

"Well, I'm not promising," Adam said, a smirk sliding onto his features. "Teasing Spike with that fly was fun!"

"Adam!" Mr. Davenport said sharply with a glare for the oldest. "You know what? No spy flies, period."

"No, Mr. Davenport!" Adam cried out, falling serious.

Mr. Davenport tried to give the oldest bionic a hard look, but he couldn't help pitying the pathetic expression on Adam's face. He let out a sigh of defeat, looking away as he tried to resolve the problem. If the fly would just fly on its own without the boys tampering with the controls…. The billionaire's eyes brightened.

"Yes, I'm smart!" Mr. Davenport celebrated, and he received mixed looks of annoyance and curiosity. "I just need to program an autopilot feature that will track him from a safe distance so that none of you numbskulls can screw up again. And I will program it, whenever it detects violence, to send me the live video feed!" he explained excitedly as the elevator doors opened.

"Good for you!" Leo said, patting the man's shoulder. "That means that you can look after him!" With that, he, Adam, and Bree all stepped out of the elevator just as the doors began closing, leaving the billionaire alone in the elevator.

"Wait! What? I never said-" Mr. Davenport was cut off by the doors hissing shut, and the teens were left alone on the main level.

"Well, that takes care of that," Leo said matter-of-factly.

Meanwhile, Mr. Davenport was sighing in annoyance, hurriedly pressing the button numerous times to reopen the elevator doors to no avail. He hadn't intended to stay in the elevator; he needed to remain on the main level to delegate the job of watching Spike to one of the kids.

When the elevator doors finally opened, the mogul found himself in the lab again. He had a mind of staying in the elevator and just riding it back up to where he needed to be, but seeing the commando app lying helplessly in his capsule changed the billionaire's mind.

"Feeling any better, Spike?" Mr. Davenport asked as he strode into the main room.

A thick "No!" was the reply he got from the app.

Mr. Davenport just stood there for a moment, trying not to laugh. The app was crumpled in a limp, crunched heap, pressed against the sides of the glass around him. The mogul knew that Spike knew how ridiculous he looked because the app's burning fury was tangible all the way across the room.

"Don't worry, I'll try to come up with something to help reduce the effects the venom has on you," Mr. Davenport finally said into the silence "but right now, I have some other more pressing things to attend to. You should be able to move again in… say… ten to fifteen minutes. Have fun until then!" He felt a little bad about leaving him again, but he needed to sort out the spy-fly-arrangement with the other teens. With a shrug to himself, he began exiting the lab.

"Ed bah heuh!" Spike tried to roar, but at this point it was just pathetic.

"Bye Spike!" the mogul called, the elevator doors closing him off from the enraged teen a second time that day. A thought struck him, and he shifted uncomfortably. He hoped that this didn't place him too high on Spike's personal hit list.

* * *

[9] An assumption for the sake of the story; Chase/Spike may not be allergic to the fly venom in the canon plot.


	39. Chapter 39

Spike sluggishly reached into his pocket, fumbling to get his fingers around Chase's – no, _his_ – phone. He carefully dragged the vibrating piece of technology out and in front of his face so that he could view the screen in time to see that he had missed a call from Matic.

"Danid," he cursed, gritting his teeth angrily. According to his internal timer, he had been immobile for twelve minutes and it was only just now starting to wear off. He was going to have someone's head for this; preferably Davenport's. Especially since he had been ditched – again.

And again.

And again.

 _Why do they always abandon me?_ he wondered. He was feeling an emotion he had only felt twice before, and both times were remembrances of Chase's feelings. But this time it was fully his own. _This feeling… this feeling is_ sadness, he realized. _I'm… sad._

 _No you're not,_ he told himself vehemently, and his fire of anger sparked again to harden once more his sludgy feelings. _They leave you because they don't care, and the feeling is mutual. They don't matter – they're the enemies._

 _That's right, they're the enemies._

Fueled by his vortex of negative emotions, Spike managed to push himself into an upright position, needing to just sit and rest for a moment. This stunning business was exhausting.

He looked down at his phone that was laying face-up in his flaccid hand, and with the press of a few buttons, he saw that not only had he missed a call, but there were a couple of texts as well. They were both from his captain.

-Team hang out today, meet at the beach by the food shack at 2. Tell me if you are coming-

-Tell me if you are not coming too-

Spike thoughtfully blew air out of his mouth as if through a straw. Getting out of the house and away from the others was sweet music to his ears at this point. After six taps on the screen, he sent the message - Coming -

He glanced at the time displayed on his phone, and was dismayed to see that it was nearly two o' clock already. He needed to get a move on.

The app slid his arms beside him so that they were straight and supporting him, sliding his feet so that his knees were close to his chest. Bunching his muscles, he heaved himself upward with all his strength, straitening his legs as he did. Even if he was unsteady, he was on his feet now.

Shoot, I forgot that I'm not feeling great, he thought to himself with vexation. How can I face the other guys if I can't walk or talk decently?

He had a mind of cancelling, but stubborn pride bubbled up within him. He had already said he'd come, and he wasn't about to back down and wimp out now.

"I juthd need do wok id off," he muttered aloud, pushing the glass door of his capsule open. He stumbled out, shuffling his way over to the cyber-desk. _Okay, speak slowly and focus on enunciating,_ he silently coached himself. "My name ith – ith – ith –" He growled in aggravation, giving up on the _s_ sound. He would just need to deal with that one. "My name ith Thpike Dafen- Dafven- Daven-poah- poar-pordt. My name ith Thpike Dafvenpoardt."

 _I sound ludicrous._

 _I can't even say my name._

"Raaaaaahhhhh!" Spike gutturally roared in his extreme frustration. He felt a wave of tiredness wash over him, and gripping the edge of the cyber-desk, he bent over, resting his forehead on the surface of the cyber-desk as his cry died in his throat. It just wasn't fair.

"Now what's wrong with you?" the app heard a nasally voice ask snidely.

"Go away," Spike moaned, remaining as he was.

"How do you like being human _now?_ "

"Thith ithn'dt the dtime, fladt-fayth."

"What's that you said? You sound like your tongue is swollen." Spike could practically feel Eddy's nasty smirk.

"Thcram. Jutht thcram," Spike growled, standing up straight to stare down the emoticon.

"Guess who doesn't have a tongue to have swollen? In fact, guess who doesn't have allergies? Guess who can't be stunned? Guess who can't be stung? Guess who can't get stuck in a tree while we're at it? That's right." Eddy's tone was ice cold by the time he reached the end of his bragging.

"Thut up!" Spike snapped. "An my tongue ithn't thwollen."

"Who's superior now, huh? There's me in pristine condition and full power all the time, and then there's you: a bumbling idiot who can barely move, much less talk. Such a hard choice!" the home security system said, rubbing it in. He was pleased to see the youngest bionic's cheeks flush with anger.

"If you know whadt'th good foar you, gedt lotht," Spike rumbled.

"What are you going to do? I am advanced technology that makes you look old-school," Eddy said snidely. "You can't hurt me with a silly little punch."

"I'll dethtroy youar thircuitry," the app threatened, clumsily stalking over to Eddy's control box. He punched a hole through the metal door and gracelessly wrenched it open, his enhanced strength aiding him well.

Eddy blinked. "You wouldn't kill one of your own kind."

"You underethtimadte me," Spike snarled, poised to yank out the wires so that he could snap the circuit board into pieces.

"You monster," Eddy hissed. This was the last straw for the commando app, and with a roar he ripped apart the contents of the control box despite the flurries of sparks dancing around his fingers. Eddy's screen went dark.

"You know idt," Spike spat. "And foar the record, I am nodt your kind. I'm nothing like you."

There was a long moment of silence as Spike heaved frenzied breaths while he waited for his anger to abate. He looked down at his hands to examine the damage he did, and he was satisfied to note how twisted the bundle of wires he held were. The sight of the mutilated panel and circuit board brought a sneer to his lips. Who was superior now?

He let the wires slip from his hands to the floor, readjusting his position. He casually wiped the oils from the wires that coated his fingers onto his shorts, looking around him. The app supposed that he should get a move on before someone found what he had done and confronted him. He had had enough of this place and those who lived here.

Spike let his eyes find his shoes, lost in thought. He was once more entertaining the idea of simply leaving and going it alone – there was nothing here for him. But that would make life more difficult, and the bionic didn't feel like going to the trouble that that would require.

 _Just getting away should clear my mind,_ Spike reasoned. _This isn't anything I can't tolerate, so I'll come back. But right now, I intend to be free._

 _I'm going to go have some fun._

* * *

 **AN: So yeah... I guess I forgot to warn you guys on some liberties I took due to more laziness (you always catch me, Lady Cougar-Trombone! Ahh... xD ). Shame on me. Ah well, to make some parts of the story work, I guess that we will assume that Chase/Spike can have that particular allergy, and Spike could have destroyed Eddy that way. I know you're thinking of _Crush, Chop, and Burn_ , Episode 1 of Season 1 of _Lab Rats_ , but in this story Spike does further damage to the circuit board. While the author who is lazy and writes things that are untrue is the real monster, I ask that you don't spear me with pitchforks! Pretty please? Naw, you're all good people and I trust ya... I'll just make sure to stand over here, by the door...**

 ***Please note that a real effort is truly made for this story and discrepancies are avoided whenever possible***

 **I love all of you who support this story with follows, favorites, and reviews! Even (and especially) if you point out my errors ;P That's how we writers grow and learn that you can't get away with laziness xD**

 **So yeah, don't grill me alive, but feel free to give me a good kick to the rear. And stay tuned for Chapter 40!**


	40. Chapter 40

_Skeeaw!_ a seagull squawked overhead, rising on a warm draft of air to circle the beach with the rest of its kind. Its call was reciprocated by many more of the birds as they scoured the ground for anything edible to scavenge or steal.

Spike shielded his eyes as he looked up at the flock; it was amusing to watch the birds suddenly drop into a dive in order to viciously take a half-eaten sandwich or a barely-licked ice-cream cone from unsuspecting beach-goers.

The commando app let his hand fall to his side as he returned his searching gaze to his surroundings on the ground. He had to squint to see anything with the flickering glare of the bright afternoon sun reflecting all around, and he vaguely wished that he had thought to bring his sunglasses.

Where was the rest of his team? They weren't where Matic had said they'd be. Granted, the bionic _was_ about an hour and fifteen minutes late; he hoped that they hadn't left the beach by then.

Spike heaved a sigh, shoving his hands into his pockets as he craned his neck to see if the others could be readily spotted. They were nowhere in sight.

"I with[10] I had my phone tho that I could call one of them," Spike muttered to himself. He was glad that his speech was no longer slurred, but he was also dismayed that there was still a light lisp.

He methodically curled and straightened the fingers of his right hand, feeling the lack of his electronic device in his pocket. While he was not attached to it, it could certainly be useful; especially then.

The app had opted to leave it in the lab so that the rest of the Davenports (and Dooley) could not bother him with texts and calls, but most importantly, so that they couldn't track him; he had even disabled his GPS for this purpose. He had had enough of his family for the day. But not having his phone also meant that his teammates couldn't contact and locate him either.

A gust of wind rolled off the waves of the ocean, the salty air blowing Spike's hair into disarray. He instinctively reached to clamp his ball cap down, but he was reminded that it wasn't there when he didn't feel the familiar rough fabric. _That_ he had ended up forgetting back in the house somewhere, and he sorely missed it.

Growing tired of just standing in place, the bionic stepped off of the pavement and onto the sandy expanse that stretched for miles to the left and for a few hundred feet to the right. He began trudging towards the water, working his way off to the left (being that to the right he didn't see a group like what he was looking for). He quickly grew irritated with how he kept tripping over his sandals in the loose sand, so after kicking them off and grabbing them, he carried on barefoot.

Spike was relieved when he made it out of the dry miniscule granules of sand that scalded the bottom of his feet and lodged between his toes, to the dark wet sand that squished around and soothed his feet. He glanced back to see that his trailing footsteps marking his path were being lazily swept to near-nonexistence by the tide.

Picking his way around sharp little shells and prickly seaweed, the app veered into the foaming water to avoid a small group of raucous young children laughing and shrieking as they chased each other. The cool water flowed around his ankles, splashing with his every step.

A shadow in the water caught the app's attention, and his senses went on high alert. Peering through the shifting and shimmering water, Spike was able to catch a clear glimpse of a tiny spotted shark – Squalus acanthias, _also known as a Spiny Dogfish,_ his super-intelligence informed him – before it turned sharply, swishing its tail in the sand to cloud the water.

The app was still searching through the fading cloud for another glance of the fish when he heard his name; he looked over his shoulder to see Matic walking up, an object wrapped in tinfoil in the Slovene's hand.

"You came," Matic said loudly over the crashing waves of the ocean with an uncertain smile. He was never sure of what to make of the younger boy. "You're late."

When Matic had caught up to Spike, the bionic began walking again, matching his captain's moderate pace. "Yeah, I know," Spike muttered.

"We didn't think you would come," the Slovene added.

Spike merely nodded in response. Changing the subject, he asked "Where ith everyone?"

Matic gave Spike a fleeting look of minimal confusion, but ignoring it, the older boy pointed straight ahead and answered "We are down here more; I was getting a hamburger – you American's have my respect for this good food." Matic grinned, briefly raising his eyebrows. Spike couldn't help but give a small laugh at that.

The mention of his food moved the Slovene to partially unwrap the burger from its foil covering, and he took a leisurely bite. It wasn't hard so see that he was savoring it.

"So what took you so long?" Matic asked between bites.

"I walked," Spike supplied bluntly with a shrug. It wasn't like he lived very far away – just a couple of miles. But he had no wish to go into details.

Matic nodded, taking another bite of his burger. There was a long moment of silence, but neither was uncomfortable with it.

A sudden squawk to their left caught Spike's attention, and he saw that there were a few seagulls nearby, ambling in the sand. And they were all looking at the two of them.

Another squawk answered the first, and it was closely followed by a chorus of many more. Spike looked up in alarm to see that a substantial number of the pesky birds were gathering above. The app noted how they began to circle and gently swoop around him and his captain.

"Uh, Matith," Spike said, not taking his eyes off the birds.

Before Matic could reply, one of the seagulls dived past his head, and he only barely ducked in time. "Kaj za vraga?!" he exclaimed, spinning out of the way of another.

The bravery of the first two seagulls inspired the rest to bombard the boys, and the flurry of feathers and beaks alike freaked Matic and Spike out. Crouching down, the two swatted the air around their heads, but their efforts seemed futile. The birds had a mission, and they weren't about to leave without their reward.

"Zakaj so ptice nas napadajo?!" Matic cried out.

"Matith, run!" Spike shouted. Without questioning his comrade, the Slovene took off at a dead sprint. Immediately all of the birds followed him, leaving Spike to heave a relieved breath in peace.

The app watched in a mixture of concern and hilarity as the birds swarmed the older boy, who finally gave up retaining his burger and threw it backwards and away from himself. With no delay, the birds dove for the food item, letting Matic alone. The Slovene soon slowed to a stop, looking behind him despondently.

Spike jogged up to Matic, who was angrily walking away from the chaotic birds behind him. The bionic couldn't hide his snicker at Matic's irritation.

"…hladnokrvno, neumni ptice," Matic was grumbling under his breath, a dark look on his face. Turning to Spike, he asked "Are all of your birds this… _evil_ here in America?"

Spike looked back at the seagulls, who were still fighting over the remains of the hamburger. Turning back to the Slovene, he smirked "Only if you have food."

Matic shook his head, his fists planted on his hips.

Before either of them could say anything else, four other guys – Henry, Trent, Jem, and Nick – trotted up to them, roaring with laughter.

"Dude, that was the funniest thing I've ever seen!" Henry choked, patting Matic's shoulder roughly.

"Those gulls really got the better of you – and your sandwich!" Jem added.

"It's a sad waste of a hamburger," Matic replied sourly, but he couldn't help the wry grin that was taking shape on his face.

"When you're at the beach, you have to practically _inhale_ your food," Trent advised, chuckling.

"I understand now," Matic sighed, beginning to walk back to where the other four had come from, the rest of the present boys following his lead. When they reached their destination, they were at a haphazard mess of towels, shoes, shirts, various miscellaneous items, and a surfboard.

"When did Spike get here?" Jem asked the Slovene.

"Not long ago," he replied, glancing at the app.

"Well, he's just in time to try surfing," Jem said with a sly grin.

* * *

[10] The word _wish_ said with the previously described lisp


	41. Chapter 41

"Woooohoooo!" Jem whooped, both hands up in the air victoriously. He quickly let his hands down just before he hit an irregularity in his wave so that he could keep his balance, his arms circling as he shifted his weight back and forth. Unable to maintain his stance on the board, he leapt off of it and into the tumultuous water.

Spike snorted, unimpressed. If Jem was serious about how much time he put into surfing, he was pathetic. Surfing surely couldn't be as hard as he and Nick made it out to be.

"You didn't even make it for a minute!" Spike shouted as Jem waded to shore, dragging his board with him.

Jem's eyes narrowed, a smirk crawling onto his features. "It's your turn, Spike."

Spike hadn't thought to wear a swimsuit, but being that he didn't have anything valuable with him, he walked right into the waves in his normal clothes without any qualms. He met Jem waist-deep in the water, Nick close behind.

"Okay, so what you do is you lie on your stomach on the board and paddle out there," Nick began explaining, taking the board to demonstrate for a moment. "When a wave starts coming behind you, don't let it pass under you – when the white is just behind you a little ways, that's when you start standing up. Stand up slow enough that you don't lose your balance, but fast enough that you aren't toppled. Keep your feet spread apart and your hands out for balance. Got it?"

"How could I not?" Spike replied arrogantly, earning himself a look that clearly conveyed how unimpressed Nick was. The app didn't like the fact that they didn't seem to take him seriously; he was determined to prove them wrong.

"Don't get frustrated if you don't stand up today – it takes a lot of practice," Jem said, ignoring Spike's scoffing.

The bionic glared at his teammates, taking the board and making his way deeper into the ocean. Jem and Nick shared a look, going back to stand with the other three in the sand so that they could watch the show.

"How bad do you think his wipeout is going to be?" Jem asked the others.

"The first time I tried surfing, mine was pretty bad. And I was trying to be careful and take it slow," Nick commented.

"Considering how aggressive he is, he's probably going to go too fast and do something stupid to top it off – I'm guessing that it won't be pretty," Henry pitched in.

"Spike getting his butt whooped by water? No, this will be beautiful, boys!" Trent laughed.

A wry smile slid onto Jem's face. "You guys are right – this is going to be equally great and awful. I'm guessing it will be at least a seven out of ten."

"What do you think, Matic?" Henry asked the captain.

The Slovene shrugged. "This kid is full of… _surprises._ Maybe he won't be as bad as you guys think he will be. Maybe his wipeout will only be a six."

"How much are you willing to bet on that?" Trent asked.

"If he does better than you guys say he will, you owe me a new hamburger, Trent," Matic said confidently.

"Perfect. And if he's really bad, _you_ owe _me_ a hamburger," Trent replied with equal confidence.

"Deal," Matic said with closure, a small smirk gracing his lips.

Meanwhile, Spike was paddling out to deeper water as fast as he could – which wasn't all that fast. He hadn't quite figured out how he was supposed to position his hands, but he didn't want his super-intelligence to tell him; he had fully disengaged it so that it wouldn't bother him. He wanted to do this all by himself, and he was certain that he had no need for the bionic ability to aid him.

The app vigorously shook his head to clear the water that had splashed his face, snorting out the salty liquid that had forced its way up his nose. He blinked several times, resisting the urge to lick his lips. He had already accidentally taken in a mouthful of saltwater, and it was enough to discourage him from doing it again.

Squinting past the cream-colored board he was lying belly-down on, he could see a swell gathering force a ways out. He roughly figured that he only had another thirty seconds to get into position before it met him.

Spike began paddling with a new fervor, the spray of ocean water around him a testament to how hard he was working (and how much grace he lacked). He felt like he was fighting a losing battle in going against the rolling waves, but a brief glance over his shoulder assured him that he was indeed making progress.

When he guessed that he was far out enough, the bionic spun himself around and gripped the edges of the board, sliding himself up on it more. It was difficult for him to maintain his balance – the board shifted with every adjustment, and he knew that it wouldn't take much to tip him over. He wondered if he was wrong to assume that this activity would be easy.

Hearing the thunderous crashing of a large wave behind him, Spike pushed up quickly and pulled his right knee up underneath him. But this hasty action threw off his balance too quickly for him to correct, and he rolled violently to the right.

The sensation of being practically dragged through the water was terrible. Water flooded into the app in ways he hadn't known were possible, the salt stinging his mouth, nose, and throat. He hadn't taken a breath before he had hit the water, and his terror made his lungs contract, drawing in unwanted water.

Spike immediately choked on the water, and his swimming became panicked. Throwing his head above the water and sucking in air, he began coughing and spluttering, grasping for the surfboard that wasn't there. Cracking his eyes open, he saw it nearly fifteen feet to his left, and he managed to swim over it. Grabbing hold of it, he simply hung from it for a moment in order to catch his breath, all the while spitting out the water that so grossly offended his taste-buds. He had to swallow back his nausea.

After wiping the water away from around his eyes, the app looked to the beach and saw his teammates hooting with laughter and talking to each other. One of them hollered something to the bionic, but he couldn't make out what was being said. Spike hardened with determination at this sight; he wasn't going to allow himself to fail again.

Heaving a shaky breath, he pulled himself back onto the board, bracing himself as another large wave passed underneath him without consequence. When the water was once more tolerably calm again, he began paddling his way to yet deeper waters, taking a more relaxed pace this time. He hadn't made it much closer to the shore in the previous attempt, so he didn't have far to go.

Spike got into position well before a wave came along, wiping water out of his eyes yet again. He adjusted his heavy, sopping-wet t-shirt; he wished he could take it off, but he had no will to lose it and go shirtless for the rest of the day.

Calming his breathing, the app slowly looked back and watched for an approaching wave. For a long while, he merely bobbed on the glittering surface of the Pacific Ocean as he awaited his chance to prove himself to be an adept surfer.

The roaring undertone of a wave that was both gaining speed and power as well as drawing closer and closer by the second alerted the bionic, and he tensed himself. He was sure that he was ready this time.

When he felt it was the right time, Spike began sliding himself up the board and pushing himself up and away from it, using the force of the wave below him to steady the board. _Here we go again,_ Spike thought to himself wryly just before slowly bringing his knee up. He couldn't help a silly grin at the fact that he didn't tumble this time.

He began to shakily bring the other beneath him, but before he knew it he was crashing into the water beneath him, his skin smarting from the impact. He was once more waterlogged, this time far more of the ocean finding its way up his nose.

He gasped for air, coughing as he messily tread water to keep himself afloat. His eyes were squeezed shut as he fought off a pounding headache, and he blew air out of his nose as hard as he could to try to clear out his nostrils.

"Arrrgh!" he growled. "I hate" –cough– "water!"

Simmering with a nasty mixture of frustration, embarrassment, and anger, Spike decided that he had had enough of surfing. _Surfing is stupid,_ he thought to himself dourly.

Rubbing away the water from his eyes for what seemed the millionth time that day, the app blinked his eyes open and searched for his board. He spotted it about forty feet to his right, and with a groan of exasperation, he went after it.

Seven minutes later he was trudging out of the water, soaked to the bone with water and irritation alike. Dragging the surfboard through the sand, he threw it at the feet of a howling-with-laughter Jem. The older boy was not alone in his mirth; all of the present guys besides the app were holding their sides and throwing in their two cents on the show of failure they had just watched. The way Spike handled himself was the only reason it was as funny as it was.

"I hate thurfing!" Spike snapped, stomping off away from them. He ripped off his t-shirt and wrung it out, water streaming to the ground.

"Lighten up, Spike!" Nick called, coming up from behind the bionic. "Your worst wipeout only scored an eight."

"Out of ten!" Henry added from where he still stood with the others.

"Either way, Matic owes Trent a hamburger now," Nick laughed.

"What?" Spike asked, confused.

"Oh yeah, we were all making bets," Nick grinned "and you failed to disappoint!"

"I'm glad I could make thuch a thport for you guyth," the app said sarcastically, his expression locked in a snarl.

Nick's eyebrows knitted together in confusion, his grin growing wider. Scratching his head through his thick, wavy brown hair, he asked incredulously "Do you have a _lisp?_ "

Spike sighed with vexation. Without any humor, he rumbled "Drop it." With that, he slung his damp t-shirt around his neck, stalking off.

"Whatever," Nick shrugged.


	42. Chapter 42

Spike slid through the sand, spraying it all around him as he reached to catch the Frisbee. Only the tips of his fingers made contact with the hard plastic, knocking it away from him so that it briefly rolled in the sand before dying.

"Come on, Spike, you have to catch it if we're going to get any points!" Jem called, but his tone was more teasing than it was disappointed. Spike rolled his eyes, silently beating himself up. If there was anything Spike wasn't terribly good at, it was catching things; normally he would just knock them out of the air, regardless of how valuable it was. He was far better at just throwing things.

He watched Matic trot over to where the Frisbee landed and pick it up. After scouting out the position of his teammates, the Slovene launched the disc to Henry, who leapt up and caught it easily. His height gave him the edge over his defender, Jem.

Keeping his feet planted where he was, Henry searched for someone to throw the Frisbee to. Matic took off running to be open, and Spike followed in hot pursuit; deciding that the captain wasn't an option, Henry did a backhanded throw to Nick.

It was obvious that Henry didn't know how to do a backhand throw (or maybe he was just awful at it) when the Frisbee flew right into the ground near Trent, who immediately grabbed it.

"Beautiful, Henry, just beautiful," Trent said sarcastically with a smirk.

"Let's see you try it," Henry challenged.

"I will," Trent replied cockily, raising his eyebrows. "Spike, Jem, give me something to work with!"

 _Easier said than done,_ Spike thought to himself, cutting back behind Matic. But he was not able to shake the older boy, and Spike knew that if they had to jump and fight for the disc, he would lose. The app decided for perhaps the hundredth time that he hated being short.

Jem was equally challenged with Henry, the two good friends getting rough with each other. Henry's laughter laced the air as he was able to push around the slightly smaller boy with some ease.

"Guys!" Trent sighed in exasperation.

Spike growled to himself, coming to a stop. Matic did as well, lightly bouncing on the balls of his feet so that he was ready for anything that the bionic did. Watching the Slovene watch him gave Spike an idea; a nasty idea. The app was unable to hide his smirk.

Matic noted the change in Spike's demeanor, and he frowned lightly. He was wary of what the younger boy was intending. Without warning, Spike made a move – directly towards Matic. Caught off guard, the Slovene didn't have time to react before he was plowed into by the app, who ran through his tackle into open space.

"Here here here," Spike shouted in rapid-fire, and Trent wasted no time doing his backhand throw to his teammate. But the football player's throw was also a failure, sending the disc rolling in the sand.

Already running, Spike scooped up the Frisbee as Henry was victoriously saying "Ha! You can't do it either!"

"The sun was in my eyes!" Trent whined. "What do you want me to do, block out the sun? 'Cause I can do that!"

"Yeah, surrre," Henry said, rolling his eyes with exaggeration.

"I'll thow you ladieth how to do a backhand throw," Spike cut in arrogantly, holding the disc close to himself so that a recovered-but-still-frazzled Matic couldn't knock it out of his hands.

"You can't tackle in this game," Matic huffed. "We get the Frisbee now."

"No, you were in the way," Spike argued, twisting away from his captain. To his teammates he shouted "Get open!"

"Me! See me!" Trent yelled as he made a break to the end zone, Nick hastily scrambling to his feet from where he had slipped in order to chase down Trent.

Spike spun around Matic to flick his wrist upwards and release the Frisbee into a backhanded throw. The throw was only slightly off target, but Trent amended this by diving to make a spectacular catch, plowing into the ground gracelessly.

"Wooooooo!" Jem whooped as Spike roared "Yeeeah!" in victory. "That'th a backhand throw!" the app added.

"Scooooore!" Trent celebrated as loud as he could possibly be, climbing to his feet in time to chest-bump Jem. "That's ten points for us – we win!"

Nick flopped onto his back on the ground again, groaning. Matic had his hands on his hips and his head hanging, shaking his head in defeat.

"Great. Now your heads are going to be even bigger!" Henry exclaimed jokingly, throwing his hands up in mock-frustration.

"As they should be," Jem shot back in good humor.

"You wanna go, bro?" Henry challenged as the two walked right up to each other.

"You bet I want to go!" Jem replied in kind, getting into his friend's face. The two roughly shoved each other playfully, laughing.

"I demand a rematch!" Nick called out from where he was still laying on the ground, remaining with his elbow over his eyes.

"No, I'm hungry," Trent responded. "A victory like that requires food."

"If you all pitch in a few bucks, we can have pizza or something at my place," Jem suggested, sobering up a little.

"You know what actually sounds good? Hot dogs," Henry said. The other boys present lit up a little; even Nick sat up, having a new interest in the conversation.

"Dude, that sounds so good right now," Jem conceded. "Hot dogs it is."

"I can get them on the way to your place," Henry offered. "Who wants to come with me?"

"I will," Trent volunteered. The rest of the guys simply looked at each other to see who else would go with the two seniors.

"Anyone else?" Henry asked. "Going once… going twice… sold!" Turning to Trent he said "Just the cool kids in my car, then."

"Come on, let's go – the sooner we get those wieners, the sooner we can eat," Trent said with a grin tinged with a little nastiness. The two began walking, the quarterback briefly turning to call behind him "Later, losers!"

"Let's see who's the loser when we make it to my house first!" Jem fought back.

"No fair!" Henry shouted without slowing down.

"You have a head start, so we're even!" Jem bellowed so that he could be heard. Henry only waved him off in response, breaking into a jog with Trent so that they could reach Henry's car sooner.

"Come on, guys, let's go so that we can beat them back," Jem addressed the other three. As Spike and Matic began to follow Jem to their stash of stuff in the sand, Nick rolled to his feet and caught up. After divvying up the many miscellaneous items, the four of them trotted to Jem's lightly rusting silver car.

"I call shotgun," Nick claimed as they were dumping their stuff into the trunk of the car, and as soon as his hands were empty, he hopped into the front-right seat. Spike sighed with mild annoyance at having to sit in the backseat, but Matic seemed to be unfazed – the European really didn't care where he sat, just as long as he got to where he was going in one piece.

"Let's pump up the jams," Jem said as he swung himself into his seat and stuck his key into the ignition. As soon as the car was running, he cranked up the volume. But as he registered what song was playing, his face scrunched up and he turned the radio back down. "Never mind," he muttered.

"I know this good station," Nick offered.

"Alright, go for it," Jem replied, shifting gears and backing out of his parking spot. Spike watched Nick fiddle with the radio settings as he figured out how they worked and manipulated them to do his bidding. It wasn't long before the wanted station came in, and Nick turned the volume back up.

"Yes! I love this song," Jem said with a grin, putting his sunglasses on with his right hand as he steered with his left. Matic rolled his window down, and deciding that that was a good idea, the other three followed suit.

"What ith thith thong[11]?" Spike asked curiously. He actually kind of liked it.

" _Castle of Glass_!" Jem belted out with the lead singer to answer Spike's question.

"By Linkin Park," Nick added informatively. "And Jem, you're terrible at singing."

"No, I'm a great singer," Jem laughed.

"I'll show you great," Nick challenged, turning up the volume even more for the new song coming on. As soon as the refrain came on, he added his voice to the music. "That's why we won't back down, we won't run and hide…."

Spike was surprised at how good the older boy was. Listening to both him and the radio, the app found himself drawn into the song. The words were a confrontation, but at the same time they held much… humility. It was about standing up to life itself.

"…we are the orphans of the American Dream, so shine your light on me!" Nick finished the chorus as the song shifted into a series of guitar riffs.

"What song is this?" Matic asked. Spike was wondering the same thing, and he was glad that he didn't have to ask again.

"It's called _Satellite_ , by Rise Against," Nick replied, flashing the European a grin. "They've got a lot of great stuff; you should look them up."

 _I think_ I _will,_ Spike thought to himself, closing his eyes as he leaned his head out the window to let the air whip past his face and through his drying hair even as he soaked up the music. Spike couldn't hide his small smile of satisfaction. Despite his failed attempts at surfing, he was glad that he had accepted Matic's invitation; he was glad that he had left his 'family' behind.

* * *

[11] The word _song_ said with the previously described lisp.

* * *

 **AN: Hey friends, so not a lot actually happened in this chapter, but the next few chapters start to get more and more interesting - and this chapter was important to that set-up.**

 **Also, I read every review, and throughout the story many of you have been wondering where Chase is and whether he'll be coming back, and I have been holding my tongue on that matter... we're fast approaching a part of the story that may or may not answer that question. So stay tuned for that.**

 **Hey y'all, follows, favorites, and reviews are awesome, and those of you who have supported this story as such are even more awesome - thanks so much! I encourage those of you who have been a Douglas (stalking - er, lovingly lurking in the shadows) to show you're faces - I'd love to know what you think :)**

 **So yeah, Chapter 43 - it's coming soon, so keep your eyes open for that!**


	43. Chapter 43

A shifting, twisting fire danced on dry logs, causing the wood to crack and pop in protest. The bright orange light shimmered in the eyes of the six teenaged guys sitting around the bonfire, the boys talking and laughing contently.

"Spike! Your dog's burnin' up!" Henry exclaimed suddenly.

The easy grin dropped from the app's face as he realized that his hot dog had caught fire, and he quickly yanked his metal roasting stick out of the flames. Bringing it up to his eye level, he began blowing on it with fervor; the little flames spluttered and died out, leaving the meat to hiss angrily.

"I'm glad you're not my cook," Jem joked, the light of the fire glinting off his toothy grin.

"It'th fine," Spike sighed, prying it off the metal stick and dropping it into a waiting bun before he burned his fingers.

"I'm next," Matic said as soon as the fork was hot-dog-free, holding his hand up with his fingers splayed and ready to catch the roasting stick.

"Only if I get the ketchup," Spike replied. Even if his hot dog was blackened, the app knew that as far as his tastes went, ketchup could fix almost anything.

"Gotcha, bud," Jem interjected, tossing the red plastic bottle to the bionic. Spike in turn lightly threw the fork halfway across the fire to the Slovene.

"Hvala," Matic responded.

"Is that 'thank you'?" Nick guessed.

"Ja," the Slovene smiled. "Yes."

"I don't know how you do it," Trent said, shaking his head in wonder. "How are you so good at English? I'm in Spanish and I'm failing."

"You fail at everything," Spike commented nastily. There were several 'oohs', and the commando app didn't miss the wary look of warning from his captain.

But Trent didn't miss a beat. "At least I don't fail as bad as you did surfing!"

Spike was opening his mouth to retaliate when Matic cut him off, saying "How do I speak two languages? Well, my dad was American, so I learned a lot of it when I was a small kid. And then when you speak it, read it, write it, and listen to it, you get better."

"Did you still have to learn it in school where you came from?" Henry asked.

"Yes, but it was easy for me." The Slovene shrugged.

"What's it like in Slovenia?" Henry continued, watching the exchange student carefully. Curiosity was written on the expressions of the American boys.

"What about Slovenia?" Matic asked.

"Food – I want to know about the food," Nick chimed in.

"You Americans eat the same-sized meals three times a day, but you don't stop for… _snacks_ ," Matic pointed out. "We have smaller meals but big snacks during the day. When I first got here I was full after every meal but was hungry in between."

"But what kind of food do you eat?" Nick pressed; the previous answer was not what he had been looking for, however interesting.

"Lots of soup, kislo zelje, potatoes… and a lot of the same food."

"What was the second and third thing you listed?" Jem asked.

"Kislo zelje and potatoes…?" Matic frowned at the inquisitive faces around him.

"Okay, so the first thing you just said. What is that?" Jem continued.

"Kislo zelje… I don't know that in English," Matic shrugged.

"Then it's time for _Google Translate_ ," Jem said with mock-enthusiasm, pulling out his phone and opening the app.

"You've got the app?" Henry laughed.

"When your family is hosting a foreign exchange student –" he paused, coughing "Matic," before continuing "it comes in handy a lot."

Matic shrugged. "I'm better at Slovenian."

"Then type it in, Eurobro," Jem replied, handing his phone to the Slovene.

Matic did just that, frowning at the result. "Sayer- sayur-" He shook his head in puzzlement, handing the phone back to Jem.

"What the heck is this?" Jem asked when he read it.

Henry leaned over to look, and his face brightened when he realized that he knew what it was. "Guys, that's sauerkraut, possibly the most disgusting food on Earth." The older boy smirked at his rugby captain's expression of indignity.

"Ne! Er, no! How do you know?" Matic asked defensively.

"I have cousins in Wisconsin or Minnie-something or other," Henry answered simply. "They moved from one to the other."

"It's Minnesota," Nick corrected. "Geez, know your states."

"You don't know where they live?" Jem scoffed.

"I've never been there; they always come out here," Henry explained, putting his hands up in surrender.

"So what exactly is sauerkraut?" Nick questioned.

"Nasty cabbage that is made with bacteria. I know that."

"It won't make you sick when it's ready to eat," Matic added quickly, but it was too late – all of the other guys were put off and had lost interest in Slovenian food.

"I'm so sorry you have to eat that," Trent said, clapping Matic on the shoulder sympathetically. The Slovene only rolled his eyes.

"Why did you come here?" Spike asked into the brief silence, finally adding his voice and reviving the conversation.

Matic shrugged. "I wanted to try something new, and I am doing a project."

"A project?" Henry asked. He looked to Jem, who was sitting back with a knowing smile on his face.

"You guys," Matic said a little uncomfortably. "My project is to start a rugby team that will stay."

Surprise washed over the four whom this was news for. " _We're_ your project?" Trent asked incredulously.

"I think that's cool," Nick piped up. A couple nods from the rest of the group showed agreement with his statement.

"But that makes us like hamsters," Trent objected.

"Guinea pigs," Jem corrected.

"What?" Matic asked, lost by the butchered expression.

Jem waved off the Slovene, saying to Trent "No, Matic pretty much knows what he's doing, and he's done fine so far, right?"

"Except for that first day," Trent commented, whipping his head to shoot Spike a look.

Spike scowled. "You athked for it."

Trent barked a harsh laugh. "Ha! I haven't asked for anything; ever since that day you got a lucky punch, you've been out to get me."

"A lucky punch?!" Spike exclaimed, springing to his feet. "You're _lucky_ to be alive!"

"Hey, calm down!" Henry snapped, standing up quickly as well. He put a firm hand on Spike's shoulder, saying "Don't start a fight – not here. That goes for you too, Trent." He threw the football player a glare as he said the last part.

"Spike," Matic said warningly as the commando app was about to respond. Spike met his captain's hard look, and he immediately knew that the costs of confronting Trent at that moment far outweighed the benefits. With clenched teeth and lips twisted into a snarl, he shook off Henry's grip and sat back down. Henry followed suit.

There was a long silence filled by the crackling of the fire, none of the guys making eye-contact with each other.

It was broken by Nick, who asked "So, uh, Spike. Didn't you used to go by Chase?"

"What?" Matic asked, raising his eyebrows in surprise. His expression was mirrored by Jem's and Henry's.

"Your actual name is Chase?" Henry inquired. There was a new interest in the conversation sparked among the group.

Spike hadn't liked Nick's question, and he certainly didn't like where this was going. His discomfort and irritation coupled with his simmering anger at his teammates – especially Trent – made for a foul mood for the bionic. "No – it never wath and it never will be," he growled.

"I've known you for a while; you used to be a nerdy little wimp," Trent argued.

"What?" Jem choked, breaking into incredulous laughter. "Spike, a _nerd?_ "

"A _wimp?_ " Henry added, shaking his head with a smile of disbelief. "When pigs fly, I'll believe it."

"I didn't think you had a twin…" Nick commented, studying the commando app.

"He doesn't – I watched him change with my very own eyes," Trent said, examining Spike with a hard look. "And then the pudding," the quarterback thought aloud, frowning.

The others were confused by this, but not Spike. He knew _exactly_ what the older boy was talking about. And for once he wasn't sure how to answer for himself. So he did the only thing he could do – nail Trent with a furious glare.

"Dude, chill out," Jem said, not missing Spike's menacing demeanor. "Fine, you don't want to talk about it. We'll stop."

"Hey," Trent whined. "I want to know – just tell us, Spike."

"No, Trent," Matic said sternly, and all argument ceased.

Never breaking his glower at Trent, Spike snarled "If you know what'th good for you, you'll never athk again."

* * *

 **AN: Okay, quick thing to say: can I just tell you guys just how awesome you are? Many of you caught the _How To Train Your Dragon_ reference in the last chapter, and that totally made my day :D And Sapphire (named guest), there is no such thing as a stupid question ;) You'll just have to wait and see. All reviews, as well as favorites and follows, bring a little more sunshine into my day. You guys are great - thank you so much for the support!**

 **What are your thoughts on the conversations in this chapter? Things got pretty tense there, and Spike came pretty close to... I don't even know how to put it into words. Can you? What do you think is in store for the commando app?**

 **Anyways, get ready for Chapter 44!**

 **P.S. No offense to Minnesotans, it's just kind of a funny name for a state - I know people in Minnesota and they gave me permission to have a little fun :P**


	44. Chapter 44

Spike drew in a deep breath, savoring the crisp night air. He closed his eyes, taking the moment to store into his memory the soft chatter of evening activity floating on the breeze.

Opening his eyes again, he looked up to the stars above. So carelessly of earthly matters did they twinkle, appearing as holes through the dark canvass of the universe itself. Of what they revealed was a mystery, and the app was sure it would always remain that way.

Letting his gaze fall back to his immediate surroundings, he sighed. The quiet scrape of his sandals on the pavement announced his every step until he stopped at the doormat of the mansion. Through the door he could hear voices of varying frequencies, the telltale sign of human life, of human activity. He had hoped that the rest of the Davenport-Dooley family would – for whatever reason – not be present, but this time the app was out of luck.

Setting his jaw, Spike took the door handle in his firm grip and opened the door easily, sauntering in. Walk to the lab, ask nothing, say nothing. The plan was simple, however full of flaw it might have been.

That plan did not pan out.

"Spike, you're home," the voice of Mr. Davenport stated, and all other talking ceased. Spike paused in place, scanning everyone with a cold look before settling it on the head of the household. Mr. Davenport continued, asking "Where were you?"

"What'th it to you?" Spike challenged, jutting his chin out aggressively. He was in no mood to yield that night.

The billionaire's eyes narrowed, and he started slowly walking over to the app. "You've been gone for hours – you didn't tell us when you left or where you were going, you left your phone behind, and you disabled your GPS. What were you doing?"

"What do you think I wath doing?"

"Whatever it was can't have been good – people don't sneak off just for a simple joyride." Mr. Davenport stopped only inches in front of the youngest bionic.

"You think I'm thome kind of villain!" Spike burst out, getting up in the billionaire's face.

" _You destroyed Eddy!_ " Mr. Davenport shouted, his spittle flying in Spike's face.

Spike roughly wiped it off before snarling "I did what needed to be done a _long_ time ago."

"Amen, bro," Leo muttered, earning himself a glare from the billionaire.

Mr. Davenport turned back to Spike, his fury palpable. "For now, you're grounded to the lab for the rest of the night – this conversation isn't over."

"You wish," Spike snarled, pausing menacingly before shoving past the man and storming to the elevator. The rest of the Davenport-Dooley family met each other's eyes. Mr. Davenport heaved a sigh, rubbing his face tiredly.

Meanwhile, Spike was standing in the elevator, clenching and unclenching his fists with his teeth bared angrily. _I'm just a monster to them… good. I hate them anyways._

 _But I don't want to._

"Of courthe I do!" Spike vehemently growled aloud. But lying to himself could not change reality.

Only silence met his outburst, and he smiled wryly. Already he was enjoying the absence of Eddy.

The elevator dinged lightheartedly, oblivious to the app's turmoil. Spike strode out of it, immediately making his way to the martial arts dummy. Without pausing, he turned his walking momentum into a powerful attack. He lost his sandals right away, but he didn't care. He focused all of his energy into beating the stuffing out of that faceless adversary.

Round-house kick. _I'm._ Punch to the gut. _A._ Head-to-knee crush. _Monster._

"Raaaahhhh!" Spike roared, flipping the dummy and smashing it into the cement floor with all his strength. It broke into the pieces of its composite form, the head rolling wretchedly across the room.

The commando app stood in place a moment, his chest visibly rising and falling with every breath he sucked in through his flared nostrils. His fists were clenched so tightly that his knuckles were an unhealthy white.

Spike violently shook his head once, grunting angrily and turning to walk away from the destruction he had wrecked. He glanced over the room, deciding that there was nothing he had any will to do.

His eyes falling on the middle capsule, the bionic decided to just call it a night. As he was passing the cyber-desk, he noticed that his phone was lying there. Curiosity struck the app, and he unlocked it, seeing six missed calls from the rest of his family and a couple texts from Matic earlier that day. Spike shrugged, discarding the notifications as he stepped into and locked his capsule.

He closed his eyes and tried to get into a comfortable position when he realized that he still held his phone. _Why do I still have this?_ he asked himself irritably, silently cursing his forgetfulness.

Looking down at the phone, a memory from only a few hours ago struck the app. _You know, listening to some music is_ exactly _what I want to do right now,_ he realized.

He leaned against the glass behind him and slid down into a sitting position, his knees up and his arms leisurely draped over them. _Satellite,_ he remembered, and searching for it, he found the song that he was looking for.

After cranking up the volume, Spike let his head rest against the glass and set the phone down on the floor of his capsule. Suddenly loud and overpowering music blared, and he jumped, startled. He picked his phone up, and the music resumed to its comparably soft dynamic coming from the phone speaker. The app frowned, slowly setting it down again to have it blast the music within his capsule.

 _A wireless connection to the capsule – cool,_ he thought. _I'll take it._

Spike relaxed again, closing his eyes and soaking in every guitar chord, every melodious word. The music painted a soundscape that was plagued by darkness all around, but each phrase was as a bright spark of fire searing away the night. The words were weary, but they were strong, persevering. They were tainted with angered hope.

He was startled yet again as harsh rapping on his capsule yanked him out of his reverie, and with vexation he met Adam's searching gaze. "Go away!" Spike shouted over the music.

"What?" Adam said through the glass, but being that the capsule was soundproof, Spike had to read his lips to know what he was saying. "Open up!" Adam continued.

"No! Go away!" Spike yelled, standing up into an aggressive stance.

"What?" Adam mouthed, shaking his head.

"Go!" Spike pointed his finger to demonstrate what he meant. Adam looked in the direction the app's finger pointed, but seeing nothing, he turned back. Spike had not changed his position at all, and that's when Adam realized what the younger boy wanted. An upset Adam blew out a large breath, rolling his eyes before turning away and plopping down on one of the bar stools at the cyber-desk, his back turned to the app.

"Good enough," Spike grumbled, lowering himself to the floor again. He reclosed his eyes and began to focus on the music once more when he realized that it was not the song that he had been listening to earlier. He checked his phone and saw that instead of selecting just the song, he hadn't been entirely paying attention to what he was doing and had selected a playlist instead.

 _This song is actually not all that bad, though,_ he thought to himself.

 _"They think I'm crazy… they're all around me, circling like vultures… I can't stop this sickness taking over… it takes control and drags me into nowhere… when I become my worst enemy… we are one and the same… you take all of the pain away… save me if I become my demons."_ [12] The lyrics reverberated through the commando app, and chills of foreboding raced down his spine. The song was good – _too_ good.

 _Save me from_ my _demon,_ Spike could practically hear Chase whisper. The app knew exactly what he meant.

"I'm no more a demon than you are," Spike growled under his breath.

 _Liar._

"Give it up already!"

 _Listen…._

Spike had no intention of following Chase's order, but his attention was unwillingly caught and commanded by another new song that had inevitably started playing.

 _"…but inside the beast still grows, waiting, chewing through the_ _ropes…."_ [13]

 _This is you. This song is who –_ what _you are._

 _I'm a beast..._ Spike comprehended with a flash of hurt.

 _"Who are you to change this world? Silly boy! No one needs to hear your words. Let it go…."_ Spike felt Chase's anguish wash through him – anguish at rejection, failure, pain….

 _"Carnivore! Carnivore! Won't you come digest me? Take away everything I am. Bring it to an end…."_

 _You've taken everything from me – my family, my life, even_ who _I am._

 _"Kept inside, I won't let go 'till I burn beyond control…."_ Spike squeezed his eyes shut tightly, gritting his teeth and clenching his fists. His muscles shook as he sucked in each strained breath. Chase's fiery rage and rebelliousness were consuming the app with that line of the lyrics, and Spike wasn't sure how much longer he could keep in power. _"Make me fall, make me bleed…."_

"Nooooo!" Spike moaned.

 _"Never enough… (Who I am is not good enough). Never enough…"_

" _Who I am_!" The words spilled out of the bionic's mouth to match the lyrics, containing within them the torment of both Spike and Chase.

 _"Carnivore! Carnivore… take away everything I am –_ everything I am _."_

" _Aaaaaaaahhhhhh_!" ripped a scream from the bionic as he collapsed.

* * *

[12] _My Demons_ by Starset.

[13] _Carnivore_ by Starset. Carries through to the end of the chapter.

* * *

 **AN: And we just started falling from possibly the highest peak of the roller-coaster. At this point, at least. The next few chapters will accelerate as we plummet until we risk crashing into the ground, so hold on tight. The songs featured in this chapter are some of my favorites, and if you would like to listen to more Spike songs as you continue reading this story, I highly recommend these: _Human_ _Race_ by Three Days Grace, _Point of No Return_ by Starset, _Monster_ by Skillet, _I Am Machine_ by Three Days Grace, _Wrong Side of Heaven*_ by Five Finger Death Punch, _Re-Education_ by Rise Against, and _Tell Me Why_ by Three Days Grace. They are of a harder sound with intense (and clean) lyrics, and they fit our main character very nicely. [ _Monster_ by Imagine Dragons would also work, but it's overused for these stories and it's pretty laid back for this intensity.] You will recognize themes from them earlier on in this story and throughout the rest of this story (I've been listening to these and more while I've written this story), so if you would like to experience the full package deal, the music will greatly enhance what you're reading.**

 ***Don't be thrown off by the lyrics (like I initially was) - the singer is talking about his parents and comparing them to the Divine Conflict. In this case, think of it as Spike trying to figure out two conflicting sides of himself.**

 **Oh yeah, and I almost forgot - I recommend listening to _Crazy_ by Seal for some of the ideas that come to bearing in the next chapter - it doesn't fit the intensity level, so I'm not recommending it as a soundtrack, but it will get you inside the author's head just a little bit more. Sorry to bombard you guys with so many songs all at once, the themes in each song are spread across too many chapters to be pinned to one. Grab a pencil and paper (or notes on your devices) if you need to - all of them are great in my opinion.**

 **Thank you everyone for the wonderful support this story has received - every follow, favorite, and review means a lot to me!**

 **Stay tuned for Chapter 45 - which is coming quite soon - and hold onto your hats...**


	45. Chapter 45

"Look at us."

Spike saw within his mind's eye a flash of what he looked like, and he was pleased to see that he finally appeared how he viewed himself. Taller. Broad-shouldered. Stronger. _Better._ But even then, he couldn't shake how much he still bore an uncanny resemblance to Chase.

"Look at what we've become."

Spike met Chase's somber eyes, anger boiling in the pit of his stomach. "No, we've always been this way. But this time _I'm_ the one living."

"And I'm the one dying," Chase sighed despondently from where he stood several meters away, shoving his hands into his pockets. The bright white all around them gave his appearance a stark edge.

Spike studied his alter-ego curiously. Never before had he encountered Chase, and he wasn't sure what he thought about it. _It should be impossible; physically, at least. But I suppose that the rules change within the mind._

 _But even then, I've never talked to or even seen Chase from within before now. He's always been a preconception resting on my shoulders, a shadow that I must try to escape._

 _And now, right now, right here, we are no longer one wishing to be two; we are separate. He is not me, and I am not he._

"Doesn't it feel nice?" Chase asked monotonously, keeping his face set in an expressionless mask.

"You have no idea," Spike laughed as he threw his head back and savored the moment. _I'm finally alone._

"I might know better than you," Chase said wryly, his eyes flashing for a glancing moment before falling dark and dull again.

"You don't know a thing."

"I'm the smartest man in the world."

"Your _chip_ is the smartest thing in the world – without it, you are _nothing._ "

Pain clouded Chase's facial features – the only tangible feeling he had allowed to show thus far. "You're one of my bionic abilities; you were made to help me, but you aren't following your coding."

"I'm more than just code, tootsie," Spike hissed vehemently, stalking up to Chase and getting right in his face. He was sick of the rest of his family underestimating him simply because he had artificial intelligence. Sure, he couldn't be explained, but then he had to ask if it was necessary that he could be. _No, it_ doesn't _matter if they can explain me. What matters is that I am_ not _what they think I am._

"Then we aren't compatible. We can't keep doing this," Chase responded evenly without backing down. "It's me or you."

The commando app barked a nasty laugh. "Well, if that's the case, it sure as _heck_ ain't you!" With that, Spike threw the first punch.

Chase ducked Spike's swinging fist, dropping into a crouch and extending his foot to kick Spike's feet out from underneath him. Spike dodged Chase's leg, smashing his knee into Chase's exposed side. Chase tumbled to the ground, rolling back to his feet. The two of them took the brief pause to resize each other.

But the break lasted for no more than a few seconds before Chase launched his own attack. He executed a flurry of complex moves, his strategy being more to disorient the app than to overpower him.

Spike blocked each strike easily, but he was frustrated at how he was unable to shift from the defensive to the offensive. Chase was just too fast. The app saw his opening when Chase made to clip his chin with a powerful punch, and the app slammed his forearm down on Chase's extended elbow, grabbing him with his other hand and flipping him to the ground.

Chase used his forced momentum to drag Spike over him, rolling on top of his adversary and pinning him with his knee digging into the app's chest.

Before Chase could fully disable the app, Spike arched his back violently, throwing off Chase with a roar. The two of them scrambled back to their feet, their chests rising and falling at a frenzied tempo as they desperately sucked in much needed oxygen.

"Losing your touch, Spike?" Chase taunted through harried gasps.

Spike grinned menacingly, breathily saying "There's your mistake, _silly boy._ " He lunged at Chase, spinning into a flying roundhouse kick. Chase bent backwards so that he was almost touching the ground in order to avoid the attack. He twisted upright again to meet Spike's offensive strikes, blocking both fake and real quite competently.

Spike managed to get a hold on Chase's arm, but he growled with irritation when Chase merely slipped out of his grasp. They were both coated with sweat from their strenuous battle for survival. "Just give up already!" Spike shouted.

"Never!" Chase replied defiantly, renewing the fight. The two continued to go at each other's throats, exchanging blows and counterstrikes. Despite his vexation at Chase's high level of skill, Spike could sense his alter-ego growing fatigued. Spike was the better fighter, and it was finally beginning to show. Excitement coursed through the app.

It was a failed kick to the face that doomed Chase; Spike caught Chase's leg and brutally shoved him backwards with all of his strength. There was a terrible _crack!_ as Chase's head slammed into the ground.

 _This is it,_ Spike realized with a leer of victory. He slowly sauntered over to the fallen boy, who was unable to even sit up. Chase only deliriously stared up at the app with eyes crossed in pain and dizziness.

 _No punch will ever be permanent enough,_ Spike realized. He made to clench his fist, but he was surprised to find a cold, heavy metal object materialize in his hand. He fingered the trigger, taking a moment to study the make of the handgun as he calmly contemplated what he was about to do.

When Chase saw the deadly weapon, he tried to roll out of the way, but he only cried out in pain and fell back in place. He closed his eyes in defeat, his breathing picking up speed as silent tears leaked out of the corners of his eyes. He knew that it was all over. "Is this what you wanted?" he croaked.

"Yes," Spike breathed. "This is all I've _ever_ wanted."

Chase swallowed, squeezing his eyes shut even tighter. "T-tell my family… that I love them."

Spike brought the gun up, callously sighting his target. The bead rested right over Chase's heart. _Hello freedom._ "Goodbye, Chase."

 _BANG._


	46. Chapter 46

"Adam, _what happened_?"

"I don't know," Adam choked, clenching his teeth and focusing on calming his panic. "I just looked behind me and he-he was on the ground, sh-shaking…."

Mr. Davenport only stared at the youngest bionic worriedly, watching the boy occasionally jerk violently as he shook; the youngest bionic's breathing was labored and he had broken out in a cold sweat. They had tried to wake him numerous times in numerous ways, but nothing had worked – the billionaire was at a loss.

Adam looked away from his brother thrashing where he laid on the cyber-desk, numbly studying the countless small cuts that now decorated his right hand. He had had to break through the middle capsule to get to his second-youngest brother. He remembered screaming for help, not even noticing the scarlet red blood oozing from the swelling lacerations. Thinking about it, he unconsciously picked at one of many tiny pieces of glass still lodged within his flesh.

"What do you think's going on?" Leo asked quietly, his wide eyes glued to the youngest bionic.

"I don't know," Mr. Davenport sighed, shaking his head. He quickly reached forward and steadied his second-youngest son to keep him from falling off the cyber-desk.

"It's almost like he's having a seizure," Leo observed anxiously.

"What if Chase is trying to come back?" Bree, who was hugging herself in worry, said suddenly. Hope rose within her, and she saw the same hope dance across the expressions of her conscious brothers. But Mr. Davenport's solemn face was still clouded with doubt.

"Can he even do that at this point? Or is this something else?" Leo wondered, his face falling. He turned back to his youngest older brother; he wasn't sure what to think. He only feared his hopes being crushed.

"I just want Chasey back," Adam mumbled longingly. "Come on, Chase, you can do it!"

"Adam, he can't hear us," Mr. Davenport said gently.

"Yes he can!" Adam snapped angrily, his sudden volume causing the other three to jump. "I'm not going to fail him again!"

Silence was the only response to Adam's outburst, and when no one reprimanded him, Adam continued to quietly encourage his bionic brother.

Another tense minute passed before Bree piped up, asking "What happens if he doesn't stop shaking? What if he doesn't wake up?"

Mr. Davenport shook his head slowly, saying breathlessly "I'm trying to figure that out… I never thought that I'd have to think about what to do if one of my kids has a seizure."

"Isn't there _anything_ we can do?" Leo pressed.

"I'm afraid not; we just need to give him space and keep him from hurting himself," the mogul replied simply.

Adam met Mr. Davenport's eyes. "So we're helpless?"

"Yes, bu-"

"Ah!" the youngest bionic cried out suddenly, his eyes snapping open wide.

"Chase!" Adam, Bree, and Leo all gasped simultaneously.

"I did it," the boy on the cyber-desk whispered, closing his eyes and relaxing. Slight tremors still raced through his muscles, making his body vibrate.

"Oh Chase! You're back!" Bree rushed forward and hugged her younger brother tightly, Adam and Leo close behind.

"Man, did we miss you, Chase!" Leo added emotionally.

Mr. Davenport stepped closer, gently grabbing the youngest bionic's shoulder with a grin gracing his lips. Tears of joy threatened to escape even from the eyes of the billionaire.

"No," the second youngest forced out breathily, shaking his head tiredly. "I killed Chathe."

Everyone else froze, dead silence suffocating the room.

"What?" Adam croaked.

The youngest bionic remained limp, barely saying "I finally killed Chathe." With that, his head lolled to the side as he faded into unconsciousness.

"Nooo!" an anguished cry tore out from Bree. She laid her face on her younger bionic brother's chest, her back heaving with sobs. Leo fell back in shock and crashed into a stool, and Mr. Davenport slowly sunk into a crouch, clutching his head despairingly. Adam could only stand where he was, his mouth open and silent tears finally breaking free from within him.

"Chase can't be gone, he just can't be," Leo pleaded into the air, clutching the cyber-desk and the stool desperately. His knuckles were bright white as he squeezed his supports in his grief.

Adam spun around, sprinting out of the lab. Where he was going, even he didn't know. He just needed to escape the present nightmare.

"Chase, come back, come back…" Bree sobbed, gripping her brother tightly. She didn't ever want to let go, afraid that if she did, Spike's words would become irreparably true.

"No, no, no, this can't be happening…" Mr. Davenport chanted over and over, his voice watery and hoarse. "He died once… not again. Not again!"

"Chase, _please!_ Chase!" Bree cried into the youngest bionic's chest.

"Nooooooo!" Adam's distant wail rent the air. " _Chaaaaaase!_ "

* * *

 **AN:**

 **This chapter...**

 **You guys holding up okay?**

 ***offers a virtual box of tissues***

 **I'm the author and I know all that's happening with this story, and I _might_ have cried... maybe that's the reason I cried? Idk.**

 **Well, we are going to have a brief intermission of who-knows-how-long. This intermission actually lined up perfectly with my travels - thank the Lord! If you want a special supplement to this story, I will be posting Chapter 46.5 in exactly a week, and Chapter 47 will be coming out soon after that. I encourage you to check the supplement out, but it is not necessary to the story.**

 **Per usual, a huge, huge thanks to everyone who has been supporting this story through follows, favorites, and reviews! I'm sorry I'm doing this to you :S**

 **Anyways, see you all soon. I hope this break gives you some recovery time (although, if you read the supplement, you may cry a bit more). Keep your eyes peeled for _Invisible Hearts_ and Chapter 47. Seeya soon :)**


	47. Chapter 47

Spike rose to consciousness to find a suffocating darkness all around him. Slowly cracking his eyes open resolved the black into a blurry mess of dim colors.

He lifted his head off of the hard surface he was laying on, blinking several times before his vision cleared. He was startled to see that he had not been imagining the weight that rested on his chest. "Wha…?"

A head of long brown hair was inches away from his face, gently rising and falling with his every breath. The hair spilled onto the black surface of the cyber-desk, the body it belonged to slumped on a bar stool and partially resting on him. Her arm laid limply across his stomach.

"Bree," he cursed under his breath, letting his head fall back. How long had he been out of it? And why had she fallen asleep _on him_? He had a mind of just shoving her off.

But he stopped, remembering the last… well, whenever it was that he had last been awake. Elation swelled within him, and tears of happiness and relief nearly came to existence. He hadn't realized just how much he feared losing control and being forced back into nothingness until it had almost come to be. Chase had almost won. _Almost._

 _But he didn't,_ Spike nearly laughed aloud. _I overcame… I lived. And I will live. And never again can he take that away from me._

 _I am free._

Unable to remain still in his excitement, the app shifted himself and removed his arm from under Bree, propping himself up on his elbows. The older girl's head rolled on top of her hand, and she groaned.

He slid himself from underneath her, slowly picking her hand off of himself before also lifting her head and setting it down on the desk. He didn't want to wake her and thus have to talk to her.

Liberated from his older sister, he rolled off of the desk and cringed as his bare feet crunched on something upon impact with the floor. Milliseconds later his nerves registered the prickly pain.

"Owooo!" Spike howled as softly as he possibly could, his face screwed into a grimace. He forced himself to look down, and he saw that the floor was sparkling with broken glass. After several muttered cusswords and moot threats, he delicately hopped to safe ground, hissing as he tried to shake off some of the glass from his feet.

He bent over to start picking out the largest pieces when he paused, glancing directly in front of him. Leo was sitting with his back to the cyber-desk and his knees to his chest, his head nodding forward. He was out cold.

 _What's up with that? Both Leo_ and _Bree?_ Spike stood up straight, glancing around the lab. No one else was present. _Where are the others then?_

Driven by curiosity, he began gingerly padding over to the elevator. He glimpsed behind him to see a trail of bloody footprints marking his path. _Wonderful,_ he grumbled to himself.

When the elevator arrived and opened for him, Spike stepped inside, pressing the button for the main floor. The metal doors softly slid closed, and he heaved a sigh, letting his shoulder rest on the wall to his right as he withdrew into his thoughts.

 _What's with Bree and Leo? Why are they sleeping right there, in those positions? Where's Adam?_ the app speculated. _I suppose I'll find out. I wonder what time it is – and for all I know, what_ day _it is._

When he arrived to his desired floor, Spike tenderly stepped out; the floor up here was not as cold as the cement in the lab, and the warmth inflamed the stinging of the cuts in his feet.

" _Tth, tth, tth,_ " he gasped with every step, the soft sound escaping through his tongue and clenched teeth. _Gah! This_ hurts _!_ _Whoever broke that glass and_ didn't clean it up _is in serious trouble!_

He paused in the doorway into the kitchen, peering into the room. There was no sound, no movement. The late-morning sun shone into the house in full force, making the entire room bright with the natural white light. Spike silently stepped into the room.

"Good morning, honey," came a whispered voice, causing Spike to jump.

"Ack!" the app yelped as he landed on his injuries, his face scrunched up at the stinging. He squinted through his pain to see Tasha standing next to the fridge in her light green robe with her hair still in rollers, a mug of coffee in her hands. How had he missed her?

"Don't do that!" Spike snapped irritably, peeling his bloody feet off the floor and gently walking to a bar stool, where he eased himself onto the seat.

"Spike, what's wrong?" Tasha asked quietly with concern.

"What do you _think_ ith wrong? Look at my feet, woman!" Spike growled.

Tasha frowned at his rudeness, _shh_ ing the app. "Speak softer," she whispered, nodding her head towards the living room. Spike turned around in his seat to see what she was gesturing at, and he was surprised to see Adam leaning into the limp arm of Mr. Davenport, the two of them fast asleep on the couch.

 _What?_ Spike thought, his face twisted with confusion. What was that about? And why were he and Tasha the only ones awake? He turned back towards Tasha.

"What'th with those nugget-headth?" Spike asked in an undertone.

"I don't know," Tasha replied with a shrug. "I found them like this."

Spike frowned in puzzlement, unsure of what to say. His mind was reeling as he tried to figure out what was going on with the others.

"Can I see your feet, Spike?" Tasha asked cautiously, snapping the youngest bionic out of his thoughts.

Spike blinked. "What for?"

"I want to help you – you need medical attention," Tasha replied simply.

With a small nod of consent from the app, Tasha set her coffee down on the countertop behind her, coming over to the app and kneeling down. She gently took his left foot within her hands and studied the bottom of it, sympathy etched in her features.

She briefly looked at the floor behind her where Spike's blood still marked it, then back up at the app. "Does it hurt?"

"Yeah," Spike admitted, biting his tongue as she felt his punctured skin with her feather-light touch. Her hands were warm with life, tenderly removing any glass that he had missed.

When her fingernails were unable to serve her well with this task anymore, she reached over into a utility drawer and dug around in it until she procured a pair of tweezers. She then continued with her new tool. "How did you get so much glass in your feet?" she asked.

"There wath a bunch all over the floor in the lab."

"What?" Tasha paused from her work, looking up at the youngest bionic worriedly. "What happened down there? Where are Bree and Leo?"

"I don't know what happened – it wathn't me thith time," Spike answered irritably.

"What about Leo? And Bree?" Tasha pressed.

"They're fine," Spike gruffly assured her, shrugging off her concern for them. "They are both athleep, away from the glath."

Tasha nodded uncertainly, going back to picking out the glass. Several long and silent minutes later, Tasha had finished removing the glass from both feet. She stood up, saying to the app "Stay here – we need to disinfect your feet and bandage them."

The youngest bionic watched her turn and shake the glass from her hands into the garbage can before she walked out of the kitchen and down the hall. He looked back behind him again at the sleeping forms of the older boy and his adoptive father. Spike noticed that the latter was drooling, and he smirked in amusement.

"Okay, this is going to hurt," Tasha warned as she entered the kitchen again. Spike returned his gaze to her as she set a small box of bandages on the floor and brought a thin white cloth to his feet. Watching the youngest bionic carefully, Tasha slowly applied the cloth to the bloody cuts.

"Yow!" Spike cried out, jerking away from her.

"Wha-what?" Adam startled awake, accidentally knocking his head into Mr. Davenport's, which had been resting on his own. Mr. Davenport's head snapped in the opposite direction, and a yelp of surprise and pain escaped the billionaire.

Tasha couldn't help a small chuckle as she watched this, averting her eyes as the two of them rubbed their heads and looked around. Spike might have laughed as well, but the fact that his foot felt like it was on fire kept him otherwise occupied.

"What was that for?" Mr. Davenport groaned.

"Sorry Mr. Davenport," Adam said, unable to help a sheepish smile at the billionaire's irritated expression.

Mr. Davenport looked around, and suddenly his eyes went wide. "What time is it?"

"It's eleven thirty-seven," Tasha answered, standing up.

"Oh my gosh!" the mogul leapt to his feet.

"It's a Sunday, dear," Tasha said with a small smile of amusement.

"Oh," he sighed in relief, visibly relaxing. He looked around again, and his eyes fell on Spike. The billionaire frowned as he remembered what had taken place the night before, and his face fell with sadness. Adam picked up on this, and desperation flashed across his own.

"Donald, is there something wrong?" Tasha said, concern lacing her tone. She set down the cloth and went to her husband.

Mr. Davenport stepped to her, pulling her into an embrace, holding her tightly. He buried his face into her neck, fighting to keep his emotions in check.

"Donald," Tasha whispered. She had been surprised when he took her into his arms, but now she hugged him back comfortingly. "Honey, what's wrong?"

The billionaire only held her for a long moment before letting go and stepping back. Looking into her eyes, he heaved a ragged sigh. He took her arm in his hand, leading her away from the boys and into another room.

Adam watched them go before looking back at Spike. The oldest bionic was unable to maintain eye contact, looking down at his feet for a minute or so. Neither of them said anything.

Without warning, Adam's head shot up and he began making his way to the hallway behind the kitchen. As he passed the commando app, the older boy drilled the younger one with a hard, accusatory glare before looking away and disappearing around the corner.

Spike's lips lifted into a small snarl, and he turned away. _What's with that bumbling buffoon?_

After a moment of thought, he let his attention return to the small white cloth stained with blood. He knew what he needed to do.

 _Have fun,_ he silently told himself with a grimace. He took the cloth in his hand, pulling his foot up and bringing the cloth to it.

"Aaow!"

* * *

 **AN: Hey, folks! So we're back up and running (and possibly crying some more). Can I just say that while reading the wonderful reviews many of you wrote, I legitimately reacted like this: "(Mwa)Hahahahaha! Love you too!" Oddly enough, having your life threatened because you did your job pretty alright is quite satisfying. Y'all are amazing :3**

 **So yeah, thank you for all the reviews, favorites, and follows! Seriously, you bring out some of my more entertaining reactions to anything, and I love you guys for it :D**

 **Keep your eyes peeled for Chapter 48!**


	48. Chapter 48

"I slept through Chase's _death_?" Tasha whispered in horror, wiping her eyes. She stole a glance into Donald's eyes, and the haunting sorrow of loss caused another wave of hot tears to spring forth. She pinched the inside corners of her eyes, trying to stem the flow in vain.

"His murder," Donald hissed, swallowing the lump in his throat.

"Oh my gosh, Donald," she choked, covering her mouth with her hand. "He was your nephew!"

"My son."

"Our son." Tasha shook her head, squeezing her eyes shut. "What do we do?"

Donald looked to the floor just to his left, taking a shaky breath. "What _can_ we do?"

"I washed a murderer's feet this morning."

Donald looked to his wife again, taking her shoulders in his hands. "What if Chase isn't really dead?"

"You said there was no way he could really be alive. You said that Spike wouldn't lie at that moment – not coming out of a seizure, barely conscious…."

"But what if – what if – what if Chase defies… _everything_? We have to watch out for this kid."

"Donald, you said that that was impossible…."

Donald closed his eyes a moment, saying softly "And I was right. But when I look at him… I still see Chase – I still see my boy. I-I can't let anything happen to him."

Tasha cupped her husband's face gently, staring into his eyes with her watery ones. "What about Leo? What about Adam and Bree? What about us? How can we ever feel safe again?"

"Adam and Bree can take care of themselves," Donald sighed.

"But what about my baby?"

"They can take care of him – and us – too."

"What if they can't?"

Donald stared at his shoes. "Then we've never been safe." After a long moment, he looked up to see Tasha's expression of pain, of indecision, of determination.

"Donald, I will never let anything happen to Leo – never. You know that. If it isn't safe here…."

"No Tasha!" Donald gasped, clutching her shoulders tighter.

Tasha shook her head, tears streaming anew. "I don't know, Donald, I just don't know," she sobbed, hugging herself.

Donald let his hands slide around her, clasping her tightly to himself. She let her forehead rest on his shoulder, her tears dripping to leave dark spots of moisture on the billionaire's shirt from the day before. "I won't ever let anything happen to any of you, I promise."

"Oh Donald," she cried. "Can you really keep that?"

* * *

Bree let out a soft moan, rubbing her eyes on her forearm before trying to force them open. They felt strange – they stung, and she was certain that they were swollen. As she realized this, the events of the day before hit her with all the force of a freight train.

She gasped, unable to suck in air. Her lungs simply refused to work. The image of her younger brother writhing on the cyber-desk shocked her into sobbing, allowing her to relax enough to breathe. "Cha-ase," she stuttered, bringing her hand to her forehead to hold back her hair.

She sat back, allowing herself to simply drown in her distress. What were they going to do without him? She couldn't ward off the memories of his cocky little grin, the quirky things he said, his sweet gestures of kindness. Seeing that same face marred by a vicious snarl, a malicious leer, a stone-cold glare made her sick. Never again would she see her little brother in those hazel eyes.

"I have to see your face again," she whispered, brushing away the few tears that had fallen.

Procuring the will to move, Bree slipped off the stool, carefully dodging stray shards of glass. She made her way to Leo's Mission Specialist desk where she had left her phone, sinking into the swivel chair. Absentmindedly tapping out her password, she accessed her photos.

She scrolled through the countless pictures until she reached the ones she was looking for – the ones from earlier that year when Adam and Chase had treated her to lunch, ice cream, and mini golfing after she had broken up with Owen. Leo had been visiting his grandma Rose at the time, but he had made sure to make it up to Bree by watching one of her favorite chick flicks with her when he got back.

She couldn't help laughing a little at the goofy selfies she and her bionic brothers had taken that day. Adam had made some hilarious faces, puffing his cheeks and crossing his eyes. She remembered Chase copying Adam because he wasn't quite sure how to be purposefully funny, and she and Adam had naturally given him a hard time about it. The few times he had tried to be creative had failed miserably – typical Chase. Bree's lips were graced with a smile of amusement.

She looked through other pictures from that day, her heart warming at the memories. Pictures of Adam and Chase holding golf balls in front of their eyes with their mouths open wide, of Chase giving the camera a look of ire as he had paused from eating his French fries, of Chase hugging her tightly followed by a picture of Adam getting in on it and nearly squeezing them to death, of Chase posing like one of the statues on the golf course, of Adam and Chase laying on their backs and tilting their heads back so that their hair brushed the artificial stream as they stared into the camera, of Chase hanging his head with ice cream dripping from around his mouth where Adam had smashed it into him, of her brothers making hearts with their fingers while they posed with her….

She clicked on a video, giggling at Adam's senseless words and insults that he threw at the youngest bionic, who was trying to concentrate to get a hole in one. Chase often replied in kind before trying to shush his brother, clearly growing irritable, even if he couldn't keep the small smile from his face. When his shot failed, Adam took his place at the beginning and hit his own ball, watching in bewilderment as the ball rolled away from him before it came to a stop and began rolling back to him. Chase had been standing next to her at the time, and the camera picked up his little cackle at his petty revenge. Bree snickered to herself, reliving the moment.

Moving on, she grazed through selfies from completed missions, pictures of successful pranks, mini skits caught on video, and random pictures of her brothers making strange faces.

Oh, how she missed those times… how she missed Chase. Sadness washed over her, and with longing, she studied a photo of Chase sprawled on the floor with an expression of surprise on his face. As she recalled how he and Adam had been goofing off that day, she thought about how light-hearted he could be. She knew that he would never want her or the rest of his family to mourn him like this. He would want them to remember him and not dwell on the loss, but to move forward and enjoy life while they still had it.

"I've failed you so many times, Chase," she said hoarsely. "Your death… it's my fault. I never meant for this to happen, and now that I've lost you…." She choked, recollecting herself. "You would want to us to be happy, and so I won't fail you this time. I won't fail you again…. I just don't know what I'll do without you."

* * *

Leo awoke to the sound of laughter, and a small groan escaped him as he stretched his stiff and sore limbs. He opened his eyes, blinking them into focus to see Bree sitting at his desk, engrossed with her phone.

He frowned, looking around. What caught his eye was how the floor glittered – it glittered with broken glass. Memories of the night before danced behind his eyes, soaking him with loss and pain. Spike had killed Chase. Spike had _killed_ Chase.

Chase was dead.

Another laugh bubbled up from the middle bionic, and the sound filled Leo with terrible anger. How could she be laughing at a time like this? How could she just get over Chase and go back to her social life again? Was she really texting someone – flirting with someone – when her _brother_ had just died? Leo stifled the sick feeling that rose up within him.

He silently climbed to his feet and snuck out of the lab, giving his sister one last furious glower before he stepped into the elevator.

When he stepped back out on his desired floor, he quickly made his way to his room, shutting the door and leaning against it. He looked up at the ceiling, willing his threatening tears to return from where they came from. He hadn't known the bionics for very long – only a little more than a year – but already he couldn't imagine life without them.

Their crazy abilities had surely turned his life upside down, but their abilities weren't what defined his step-siblings. How they looked out for him, included him, and loved him despite his flaws meant the most to Leo. He loved them as if they were of his own blood, as if they had grown up together. They meant the world to him.

And now one of them was dead, his body forever possessed by an evil program.

Leo covered his face with his hands, sinking to the floor.

A year ago, he would not have seen himself mourning the loss of the youngest bionic like he was. A year ago, they had fought for Mr. Davenport's attention in ways that neither of them had been proud of. But when the exoskeleton had gone berserk because of them, they had put their differences behind them and worked together as a team – as brothers – to save the day and save his grandma.

Since then, they spent much time together, bonding over videogames and kicking Mr. Davenport's butt in a robot fight alike. They were both social outcasts at school, short in stature, and the nearest in age, so it was only natural that they grew close. But now that friendship – that brotherhood – had been ripped away.

And from now on Leo had to look into that same face but see someone different. He had to look into that same face and see an enemy.

 _But Spike isn't so bad – he's actually been okay,_ Leo tried to tell himself. But how could someone who murdered his brother be 'okay'? Anger resurfaced within him. _I don't know if I can ever forgive Spike for what he's done._


	49. Chapter 49

Spike leaned over the railing of the small balcony, closing his eyes. He let his mind clear of his whirring thoughts, simply focusing on the sensations he was currently experiencing. A breeze raced past his face, whistling in his ears. The sound of the crashing of waves was the misleading testament to how the trees swayed and collided, their leaves fluttering in the invisible tide.

The app breathed deeply, filling his lungs with the invigorating fresh air. It felt good, it felt right. If he were anything different, he was certain that he would be a bird of prey, lazily riding the updrafts as he reigned over the sky. He would be alone, free to do as he pleased.

 _Just as I am now,_ a stray thought flitted through his mind. A smile raised the corners of his lips. _Yes, I'm finally free._

 _He's a murderer… he's a murderer… he's a murderer…_ the unwelcome echoes of the others' murmurings filled his mind. His easy mood hardened into irritation and anger. There was another emotion – hurt – that was also plaguing him, but he refused to acknowledge it. They didn't deserve to have that power over him.

 _When will I stop caring?_ he asked himself before shutting down that train of thought. He wasn't going to let the others rain on his parade.

 _He's a murderer…._

 _Stop it!_ Spike snapped within his mind. _They shouldn't hate me for this – if they understood, they wouldn't. But they're fools who don't care about me in the least. They're only concerned about Chase._

 _And Chase is gone._

Spike opened his eyes, looking out over the scenic view that was the backyard and hills beyond. The wind carried the distant traffic noises from the highway only a mile away, a testament to urbanization. The dry air made the bionic's lips sting, and he unconsciously licked them to re-moisturize them.

 _He's a murderer…._

 _Leave me alone! Don't they get it? If it were the other way around – if Chase had killed me – they would be celebrating! Chase wouldn't hesitate to destroy me, not for a moment. Neither would the rest of them._

 _None of them would feel guilty,_ especially _Chase. So why should I feel guilty for destroying Chase and finally breaking free from my bonds?_

 _But I do feel guilty – at least a little bit. And guess why? Because I understand pain, and the loss of Chase clearly causes more pain than the loss of me ever would. I like inflicting pain – but only the physical kind or the kind that tears down petty self-esteem. Not the kind that wrecks the person and leaves behind only a shell of grief. That kind is no fun – that kind… that kind is truly cruel._

 _I didn't kill Chase to inflict pain; I did what I had to in order to survive. If Chase had gained control again… I would be dead._

 _And no one would give a_ _damn_ _._

* * *

Adam mindlessly wandered through the house, his thoughts void of anything save for distraught. Occasionally he would stop and settle down, but he always found that he was far too restless to remain in one position for longer than a minute or two.

How could he carry on without his little brother? For as long as he could remember, he had always had a shadow. Spending fifteen years together in a basement had naturally made them close – they knew each other almost _too_ well. While Chase had been boring at times, they had found ways to connect despite their differences. They had been through everything together, and Adam knew that just as Chase had needed him, he needed Chase.

The _creak_ of door hinges alerted the oldest bionic to the presence of another person, and he looked up to see Chase emerging from a guest bedroom only a few feet away.

 _No, that's not Chase,_ Adam reminded himself, his heart breaking all over again. His torment at the loss of Chase was made all the worse by the fact that every day he had to see his brother, yet it was not the boy he had grown up with. This _monster_ had taken Chase's body and used it to harm others.

Thinking of how Spike treated him so badly with Chase's tongue, Chase's fists, Chase's eyes… thinking of this made Adam's heart lock with anger, a _burning_ anger. Spike could never replace Chase – Spike could _never_ be his brother.

" _You monster_!" Adam screamed, his turbulent emotions finally exploding from within him. He lunged forward, grabbing the surprised app by the shoulders. "What have you done!"

Spike's demeanor darkened, and he tried to twist out of the strongman's grip. But Adam was seeing red; he clutched the app so hard that any resistance was futile, and all the youngest bionic was able to comprehend was pain as the oldest bionic's fingers pressed ruthlessly into his flesh. His arms had quickly gone numb, and the app knew that if Adam didn't release him, he would forever lose the use of his upper limbs.

"Let… go of… me!" Spike gasped, bringing his knee up.

But Adam dodged it, holding the app further out from himself. His eyes glowed with hatred fueled by pain. "You killed my brother!"

"You don't… get it," Spike growled weakly. "None of you… underthtand!"

"Tell me Chase is still alive!" the oldest bionic demanded forcefully, shaking the younger boy. When Spike refused to answer, Adam slammed him against the wall, shouting "Answer me!"

Spike only looked at Adam with equal hatred, contempt filling his cold eyes. At this point he was too angry to feel the pain, and his fury nurtured the desire to hurt the oldest bionic. Spike knew that his silence in this moment was what would wound Adam more than anything else.

Adam stared into Spike's eyes, waiting for an answer that would never come. But the longer the older boy remained frozen, the more he realized that he was seeing Chase. This was Chase he had pinned against the wall, this was Chase that he was squeezing mercilessly, this was _Chase_ he was hurting.

Adam's eyes melted from white-hot anger to horror. His now-shaking hands fell slack, and he slumped forward so that his forehead was against the wall just above Spike's shoulder. "I can't do this!" Adam sobbed.

Spike pushed himself free, watching in fascination as Adam sunk to his knees. He looked around and saw Leo standing there, his face locked in an expression as blank and solid as a slab of stone. How long the youngest boy had been standing there was unknown, but he had seen enough.

Spike heaved a large breath through his flared nostrils, rolling his head and squaring his shoulders as he shook off the pain from moments before. Without saying a word, he glared icily at the other two boys before storming from the scene.

Leo watched him go, slowly approaching his oldest brother as soon as Spike was out of sight. Kneeling down, he put a comforting arm across Adam's trembling shoulders. "You're not alone," Leo whispered.


	50. Chapter 50

Spike rubbed his face tiredly, slouching at his desk. "Stupid family," he muttered under his breath. Relief shot through him for a brief moment; his annoying lisp had worn off before Sunday had come to a close, and so he didn't have to deal with it at school.

What he did have to deal with was his exhaustion – between his mourning family members and the guilt they inflicted, Spike had found himself restless that night. It was obvious that sleep had dodged the others as well.

 _Good,_ Spike growled to himself. If they mourned his life and celebrated his death, he was glad that they were in so much pain. He was sick of not being wanted, and he had resolved to get over his hurt feelings. Had he gotten over them? Heck no. But as long as he ignored his own pain, it was nonexistent. Right?

 _Just have to focus on stuff that matters to me, like the team. They don't wish I were dead._ A thought popped into his head, and he entertained it with genuine interest. _Why don't I just leave and start over?_

 _Where would you go?_ Leo's words haunted the app.

Spike blinked, shaking his head in irritation. Why couldn't anything be easy?

 _I'll think of something,_ he promised himself. He refocused his eyes, staring down at the single sheet of paper that was all but taunting him. He glanced around him, noting how his classmates hunched over their work to protect it from prying eyes, the soft _scritching, squeaking,_ and _creaking_ of pencils the only sounds filling the harried silence. Occasionally there would be a quick inhale and frantic rubbing, concluded with a relieved exhale.

Spike wet his lips before chewing on the lower one, returning his gaze to his own paper. Numbers accompanied by squiggles – sigma, he vaguely recalled – stared back at him. This was a calc quiz, and upon it being handed out, he had lacked the motivation to complete it and had instead given into his thoughts of turmoil.

He squeezed his pencil firmly, checking the clock on the wall. He had only twenty minutes left to complete an hour-long test.

 _Whelp, so much for doing this on my own merit,_ Spike thought without real regret. He didn't care about grades, so he chose to work without his super-intelligence to test his metal. He wasn't particularly brilliant, but he was maintaining a C average, which was just fine with him.

 _Considering that most of my time has been sucked away by now, I'd better make use of my bionics,_ Spike shrugged, letting the tip of his pencil rest on the paper as he activated his super-intelligence.

The test turned out to be a breeze for the app – as his eyes landed on each problem, his internal computer guided his thought process to make sense of what he was seeing and analyze it logically so that he could come to a concrete solution. It took mere seconds to process the answer, so it was only a matter of writing down every step and the solution.

The bell rung as he was on the second to last problem, so nixing the work part, he simply jotted down the answers. Shoving his pencil and unused calculator into his bag, he stood from his seat as a select few of his finished classmates did as well, sliding his paper off of the desk and sauntering to the front of the room.

Wizened old Mr. Hoffman glanced up at the bionic as the boy slid his test into the basket with the few others that were completed. The teacher's eyebrows were raised, but he didn't say a word as the app stared at him coolly before turning away.

 _Suckers,_ Spike thought wryly as he caught one last look at the majority of the class still desperately pouring over their tests before he exited the room. He stepped into the current of students drifting through the hallway, and immediately his mind started humming incessantly. With no need to search through the other kids, his eyes landed on a certain blonde-haired girl.

 _Yowza!_ Spike thought to himself as his senses sang. He quickly caught up to Kenzi, saying "Dang girl, you've got it on today!"

She looked to him with surprise before her demeanor changed to vexation. "Buzz off," she snapped.

Spike barked a laugh of amusement, saying "No, I don't think I will."

She scowled at him, and he couldn't help a snort at how cute she was when she was mad. Before she could come up with a snarky response, they were interrupted.

"Hey Spike!" Jem called easily as he passed by.

Spike was surprised by this, but it made him feel... good. "'Sup, Jem," Spike replied with a curt nod as nonchalantly as he could. He looked back to where Kenzi was supposed to be, and he was pleased to see that she was still at his side. Despite her irritation with the app, her curiosity had been peaked.

"Your name is Spike?" she questioned.

"You didn't know that?" he asked with a sly smile.

"I wouldn't have guessed it," she replied. "When I think of the name Spike, I think of large, tough, mean bulldog… you seem more like one of those pesky little dogs, like a terrier or something."

Spike's eyes narrowed. "Really? Then you have a lot to learn about me."

"Like what?"

"For starters, I _am_ a bulldog – and my teeth are as razor sharp as my name." To demonstrate his point, he flirtatiously clacked his teeth together, baring them through a self-satisfied leer.

Kenzi shot him a dubious look.

Spike raised an eyebrow, saying "You don't believe me? Why don't we _cut_ class and I'll show you."

Kenzi's expression morphed to one of mischief, and she said "How 'bout this? Tomorrow morning before school we'll get a practice room in the music area."

Spike couldn't keep a grin of victory from his features. "See you then, princess." With that, he broke away so that he would remain in control of the exchange, silently celebrating. He couldn't wait for the next morning to come.

* * *

"Hoouh," Spike gasped as he was rammed in the stomach. Digging his heels into the ground, he grabbed his attacker's back and ripped him away from himself, slamming them both into the ground.

"Go!" Spike shouted, his voice muffled by the grass he was shoved into. He pushed himself onto his hands and knees despite the guy on his back, rearing backwards to throw him off of his back. He scrambled to his feet in time to-

A whistle rent the air. "Okej, okej, that is enough!" Matic shouted, letting his fingers down from his mouth. After some straggling scuffling, the rest of the rugby team stopped, catching their breath and brushing themselves off.

"Good work, guys. Um, I've got your positions picked out. They aren't… forever. They could change," Matic said awkwardly, folding and unfolding a piece of paper. The rest of the guys gathered around him, curious about what they might be doing during matches and hoping it wasn't something they'd dislike.

Spike took his place in the back of the group, crossing his arms. While he was just as eager as the next guy to see what was on that paper, he decided that patience would serve him well. Matic would have to tell them sooner rather than later, so a few minutes at a maximum wouldn't kill him. He looked on disdainfully as some of his teammates clearly did not have the same reasoning.

"After watching you all play and knowing your strengths, I hope I picked the best positions for you. Noah, you're the right prop, number ten," Matic said, digging through the box of jerseys on the ground and handing the correct one to the boy who stepped forward. "Henry, you're the hooker, number nine. Pedro, you're the left prop…"

There were snickers at some of the position titles, but nobody laughed at their own. The guys all talked quietly, chuckled, shifted, and listened for their names.

"Spike, you're the left wing, number five," Spike heard, and he pushed his way through to grab the jersey that was handed to him. He stared at the light blue t-shirt for a moment before looking up to see Trent step forward to grab his own.

"Why do we have football jerseys?" Trent asked, interrupting the list Matic was rattling off.

Matic blinked before answering "Principal Perry doesn't want to get us our own. She will only pay for the bus."

"Well for once I wish she'd care about something other than football, basketball, and baseball," Trent grumbled.

"Yeah, like a little love for soccer and hockey would go a long way," Henry said irritably.

"So she's a she-demon, we're all agreed, right?" Luke cut in. "Continue, Matic."

There was still some grumbling about the lack of funding, but Matic did carry on, calling out the rest of the names and handing out the respective jerseys. At the end of his task, the Slovene announced "And I will be your fullback. Welcome to the Mission Creek High rugby team, Dingoes."

There were some cheers before Matic continued. "Our first game will be next week on Tuesday. You guys need to watch some rugby games at home, and here at practice we are going to focus on learning strategy. Alright?"

The Slovene received no articulate response, the rest of the guys looking at each other and their jerseys. Matic sighed at this, saying "I'm going to put you each in your starting positions, then, and we're going to go over your jobs in each position." With that announced, he began placing each person where they needed to be on the field, giving them a brief description of what they were responsible for.

After being one of the first ones to be walked through his position, Spike watched the rest of the guys with disdain. Many of them goofed around, leaving their designated spot to talk to each other. _This practice is going to take forever,_ Spike realized.

And indeed it did. Or rather, Spike felt that it did.

Back in the school locker rooms later that afternoon he was reflecting on this, grumbling to himself about the lack of contact or ball time. _So maybe it was necessary for Matic to go through all of this formation stuff today, but it really was terrible – this kind of stuff is no fun. If it's like this every day from now on, I might just rip out my own liver to play Hot Potato. Or I'd at least quit the team, anyway._

But Spike knew neither of those would happen; he was certain that there would be a lot more action in the future, and the matches themselves were enough to get him excited. He really liked this sport too much.

 _I can't wait to face a real opponent,_ he thought with a grin as he vigorously rubbed his wet hair. The damp towel didn't do much good, but at least his hair wouldn't be sopping wet from his hasty but effective shower.

He let the towel slide downwards, brushing it against his back before moving onto his well-muscled arms. He still couldn't believe how much his personal training was paying off, but the mental image of himself still seemed to be too far to reach. _In time,_ he assured himself, sucking in a breath before dumping the towel into his locker and pulling out his shirt.

After slipping it on, he squashed his wild hair down with his favored ball cap before restocking his pockets and putting on his belt. He was doing the latch when he heard padding footsteps approach him from behind before his hat was snatched from his head, raucous laughter breaking out from the thief.

"Hey!" Spike exclaimed as he spun around to see that it was Carter with a sly smile dancing on his lips.

"C'mon, wingman, take the hat back," Carter challenged, hopping over the bench so that it was between himself and the app.

Spike gave him a look that held little amusement, saying brusquely "I'm not doing this with you." He turned away, hiding a smirk; he had every intention of taking his hat back, but he planned to do it with the element of surprise.

Before he could put his scheme into action, he felt the hat smashed back onto his head, Carter saying "Man, you gotta humor your fellow wing; we're bros now."

Spike sighed with a mixture of annoyance and disappointment, slamming his locker shut. "I've got enough of those," he said, turning back to his teammate.

"Dude," Carter rolled his eyes. "I said, humor me."

"No, I'm humoring myself," Spike said with a mischievous smile.

Carter shot him a look, shoving his shoulder. Spike shoved him back.

Shaking his head, Carter said "I'll see you tomorrow, my mom's probably out front waiting for me."

"Seeya," Spike replied, biting back a nasty insult. He tipped a couple fingers to a retreating Carter's casual wave before turning to grab his backpack, slinging it over his shoulder. His mind was swirling – he was beginning to think that he had some real friends.

And it felt… nice.

A part of him ached at this, and he groaned in frustration. _Another reason for me to stay._

 _Maybe the rest of my 'family' won't be so bad once they get over it…?_

Somehow he doubted it.

As he was walking into the mansion half an hour later, this conviction was reinforced by the cold greeting of indifference he received. Not all members of the Davenport-Dooley family were present, but those who were surely did not welcome Spike home with open arms. _And they never will._

* * *

 **AN: Hey everyone, whatcha thinkin'? Things just got a little more... thought-provoking for both you _and_ Spike. This chapter certainly had me thinking and very much tested my limits as a writer - it took me about _two months_ to write this chapter alone, and let me just say, I had a little party upon finally finishing this o.0**

 **So yeah, good stuff.**

 **On a side note, not long ago I received a review from the amazing fs440 (a guest) that this story was going by very slowly... eh, good. This is definitely not my fast-paced style (at all), and that is because I am doing my best to delve into the characters and ramp up the intensity as realistically as possible. I guess this turned into defending myself a little, but I hope it also explains what I'm doing so that you know what to look for. If you aren't enjoying the story, I'm not going to force you to read it, and I'm not going to hate you if you don't like this piece. I do hope you continue reading because I have some unique and gripping material down the road, but seriously, if you don't want to read it, don't feel obligated. I, the author, am serving you, the reader. Any and all feedback is a service to me, and I welcome it gladly. Thank you, fs440, for being honest with me (and yes, I saw your question... you'll just have to keep reading to find out).**

 **Thank you to everyone who is hanging in there and to those just joining the party - the fact that you read my work is just the most amazing thing in the world, and it's even more awesome that many of you respond to it through follows, favorites, and reviews. You. Are. Phenomenal. Seriously :)**

 **Well, keep an eye out for Chapter 51, and I will see you then!**


	51. Chapter 51

Spike pushed his way through the front doors of Mission Creek High with palpable excitement, immediately making his way over to the practice rooms in the music department. Fantasies played through his mind, making his heart pick up speed and his hands grow jittery. He was anticipating something amazing.

Adverse to his normal routine, the commando app had put extra effort into his appearance that morning, wearing tan khaki shorts, a tight black athletic shirt, and his hat placed on his head just right. He had even opted to wear cologne for once. He was not striking in the least, but he hoped that the simplistic-yet-tough-and-mature look would make an impact.

He sauntered into the locker-lined room, looking around. Kenzi was nowhere in sight, so he began his search through the practice rooms. He quickly found that they were small, dull, and, most frustratingly, _empty_.

 _So she's not here yet – big deal,_ he thought to himself irritably. Knowing when she usually got to school (he would argue that he was not stalking, but simply _observing_ ), he had planned his arrival so he was early enough that she wouldn't think he wasn't coming but late enough that he was casual and in control.

It irked him that this did not pan out.

 _Ugh, she had the same idea. Should I leave and reenter later?_ He paused, a thought flitting through his mind and darkening his mood. _What if she forgot? No, she wouldn't have… would she?_

He ground his teeth angrily, forcing himself not to think of the worst case. _No, she's just late,_ he assured himself. Opting not to leave because of the worry that he might miss her, he began pacing back and forth, steadily growing more and more agitated.

Nearly ten minutes into his wait, someone entered the practice room area. Now people had been coming and going for several minutes at this point, and there were a number of kids who just milled around and socialized if they weren't getting their instruments and practicing. But what made this person different was that she directly approached the app with a purpose, her cold eyes set on him.

"Here," she said gruffly, shoving a piece of paper at Spike. He recognized her as being one of Kenzi's closest friends.

Upon doing her job, Kenzi's friend promptly left, leaving Spike to stare after her in confusion. He looked down at the paper, unfolding it to find a handwritten note.

His stomach dropped as he read it, a fire growing in his belly and hurt welling up within him. Through the innumerable swearwords and vile names and descriptions, Spike was devastated to read Kenzi's poisonous opinion of him – and he knew it was from her because he would recognize her loopy handwriting anywhere.

The last line was the final straw: _So stay away from me, you *** monster, or next time I will write this letter to you again in your blood._

"Rahr!" he cried out, violently tearing the letter in half. The other kids around looked to him, startled, before they quickly made an escape. Heaving weighty breaths, he turned away from them, punching a locker with another roar.

The wooden locker splintered around his fist, his hand going right through it as it caved in on itself and jammed his hand into the locker. He stared at it for a long moment in shock before he registered the pain. Clenching his teeth, he began prying the wood from around his wrist, wheedling his arm out of the mess he had made.

Finally free, he briefly examined his hand; he was glad to find no blood, but already it was swelling and mottling with bruises. Letting out an angry sigh, he squeezed his eyes shut as he fell against the wall of lockers, resting his forehead against them.

What had warranted that terrible letter? Why did Kenzi hate his guts? Those were questions he couldn't figure out, and it only hurt more that this was all centered around the person who always invariably caught his attention and could promise him a good time. He had worked so hard to impress her, and to what end?

 _Gotta get away, gotta get away_ , he thought to himself over and over again, but he was unable to make himself move. He was numb in his pain.

As he remained as he was, a sound caught his ears. A most beautiful sound. Spike froze before standing up straight once more and tilting his head slightly so that he could hear it better. There was silence for a moment before it could be heard again, and the sound both excited him and made him practically melt inside. "Quiet," he muttered absentmindedly to the general noise of the hallway that leaked in, and he strained his ears so that he might catch the lilting melody.

Still unable to hear it clearly, he lethargically began following the sound, tracing it to its source. He was overcome by an odd peace, yet he felt vibrant and very much alive. Never had the fiery commando app felt this way before.

In his mind was the vivid image of a bubbling brook of clear water gently dancing along a forest floor, brushing by fern and stone alike. Illuminated by the sunlight that trickled through the sighing leaves would be smooth pebbles within the flowing stream, giving the myriad ripples of water a new sparkling dimension. So calm, so mild, but never lacking in energy, in life.

He stopped outside one of the now-inhabited practice rooms, listening to a piano sigh with its tangible counter-melody. But that was not what captured Spike's attention, for it was only accompaniment for the most beautiful voice the bionic had ever heard.

" _My soul proclaims the greatness of the Lord,_ " [14] the voice sang sweetly. The owner hit both the high and low notes with ease, her voice rich and equally delicate as she luridly wove the song with all contour. It left Spike breathless, and he sunk to the ground so that he might inconspicuously listen more. In this time of hurt for him, the sound was as balm on raging sunburn, soothing his roiling emotions.

His trance was broken when the music suddenly stopped, and he heard someone talking loudly and quickly from within the room. It didn't take long for him to figure out that it was a voice-instructor who was both reprimanding and coaching the singer. The app felt a pang of defensiveness for the singer, wishing only to storm in there and make that instructor see how amazing she was.

This urge confused him, and he quelled it, remaining where he was. He was trying to understand why he was reacting so strongly when she began singing once more, and again he felt himself become like putty. He could imagine the singer's beauty, comparable with the beauty of her voice, and he knew what possessed him.

In losing a blistering passion for Kenzi Locke, Spike had discovered a flower that held unparalleled power over his heart. And to his astonishment, he loved it.

" _From this day on, all generations will call me blest,_ " rang the last line of the song, sending chills down the bionic's spine. The practice room was silent for only a moment before the instructor began speaking again, and Spike realized that their lesson had come to an end.

Excitement coursed through the app when he thought of meeting this girl, but it was quickly replaced by an inexplicable fear that roared through him. No, it wasn't inexplicable - he'd just been cruelly rejected. Who was to say she wouldn't knock him down too? Scrambling to his feet, he scurried into the empty practice room just to his left, peeping from it in time to see the instructor exiting his room, the singer in tow.

The girl seemed to be older than the youngest bionic, but not by much. What immediately caught Spike's attention was her caramel-brown hair that would be in poufy, tight curls if it weren't restrained within a bun. She wore nearly imperceptible make-up and only simple clothes, but despite being far less gorgeous than Spike had expected, she did have a quaint aura about her.

 _Whoa,_ not _my type,_ Spike thought in awe as he slipped back out of sight with his back against the wall. _But_ so _my type… I don't know. What is this? What's come over me?_

He shook his head, telling himself _It will pass, this is just because I'm upset… right?_

 _I don't know._

He peeked back around the corner to find that she was gone. And already his heart ached.

* * *

[14] _Visitation Song_ (featuring Jessica Schissel) by Aly Aleigha.

* * *

 **AN: So yeah, cheesy infatuation right after sore disappointment. Not my best work, admittedly, but I'll still take ownership for it. I guess what I'm trying to get across is that with Spike and romance, the winds can change quite quickly. Do you guys think anything will come of this odd pairing? What do you foresee in the story?**

 **And fs440... d'aww, shucks. You're wonderful :3**

 **Yes, folks, Asori is a sucker for flattery :P You are all amazing in my book!**

 **Like always, thank you for all of the support in follows, favorites, and reviews! Keep being awesome :D**

 **Don't tune out before Chapter 52!**


	52. Chapter 52

Spike tracked the rugby ball as it spun and twisted through the air, hopping from player to player. As it drew nearer to him, he readied himself, keeping his eyes locked on the target and his fingers splayed wide.

"Spike!" Carter called, and in moments the ball was racing towards the app. He reached out, wrapping his fingers around the gyrating object, but it bounced around in his hands before he could clasp it to his chest for good measure. Upon gaining control of it, he tucked it under his arm and took off, sprinting through the line of cones.

"Woooo! Touch down!" Trent whooped, earning himself a look of displeasure from Matic.

"Yeah, we got it!" Carter celebrated to Spike as he caught up, holding his hand up for a high five. It took Spike a moment to figure out what to do, and after a slight hesitation, he smacked the proffered hand.

"Good job, guys," Matic said, jogging up to the victorious defensive line. "Is that drill good?"

"Yeah, we got this, man," Jem said with a self-satisfied grin.

"Except that fumble-fingers almost lost the ball again," Trent added, shooting Spike a look that the app missed. The commando app didn't realize the nickname was his, or else Trent might have come to regret that jibe. As it was, he went unpunished and Matic continued.

"If offense is doing well, then we can be done," the Slovene said, and the group walked over to where the rest of the team was drilling blocking techniques.

"Yo, guys," Jem called as Matic was opening his mouth to get their attention, and the European shot his host a look.

The offensive players stopped their shoving, turning to face their captain after making quick comments to each other and pushing each other around just a little more. "How are you guys doing?" Matic asked.

"Muy bien, amigos," Pedro responded on behalf of his group.

"It's going good," Henry translated indirectly.

"Want to be done for today?" Matic asked. Approval was shown by nods and heard by comments from the team. Taking this in, the Slovene gave a curt nod before saying "Alright, go home guys. See you tomorrow after school."

The group broke up, and Spike stepped up to Carter and Nick's pace so that he walked side-by-side with them.

As they were nearing the bleachers, Nick called out "We're done, Paige! Call mom!"

Spike looked up and almost tripped in surprise – it was _the girl_.

The girl with the beautiful voice. The singer whom he had found himself secretly listening to in the mornings since he discovered her lessons two days before.

"Is that your sister?" Carter asked, shielding his eyes against the sun.

"Yeah, my twin sister," Nick replied. "She had an audition today, and our mom didn't want to drive up twice to pick us up."

"You don't drive?" Carter asked in surprise. "You're old enough."

"I've got my license, but my family only has one car."

"Ah. I wish I could drive; I just have my permit."

"Do you drive, Spike?" Nick asked the app, shaking him out of his distraction.

"What?" a startled Spike asked.

"No, Spike's in my grade, he doesn't drive," Carter answered for him.

"Yeah, uh, no, I don't drive," Spike spluttered, glancing back at the bleachers once more before they arrived at their pile of gear.

Spike didn't realize he was lingering until he noticed that Nick and Carter were standing around waiting for him. After a "Hurry up, Spike," and a "Slow poke," grumbled by his friends, they ended up just walking back to the school without him.

Spike stared at the bleachers for another long moment, watching the girl – Paige – descend. She looked his way, and he quickly averted his gaze. Had she seen him staring? No, he couldn't let that happen, he had to play it cool. This was silly. He needed to just be normal.

He scooped up his stuff and took off at an even pace towards the school, aware that she was not far behind him. He resisted the urge to look backwards.

* * *

Still frazzled from earlier that afternoon, Spike almost bulldozed the middle bionic as he walked through the doorway into the mansion.

"Watch it, bozo," Bree snapped as she caught her footing, giving him a dirty look.

Spike steadied himself, glowering at her before shoving past. He had a lot on his mind, and upon recently discovering that he found solace in music, he was in a hurry to immerse himself in it at that moment.

Bree paused where she was, watching the app dump his backpack on the floor next to the couch and plop down on the white cushions. Adam and Leo were sitting on it as well, playing their video games, but she was disappointed to watch them scoot to the far edge of the couch and glare at the app. She didn't miss the look of discouragement that flashed across Spike's face, however brief.

Sympathy for her brother overwhelmed the middle bionic, strong enough for her to pull out her phone. Her fingers flying, she typed and sent a message to Caitlin cancelling their shopping plans for the afternoon. The youngest bionic had become more important.

Walking over to the app, Bree greeted him with a "Hey Spike."

Spike looked up irritably, pausing in putting his earbuds in. "What do you want?"

"I thought maybe we could hang out."

"Um, no," Spike said with a blunt edge.

Bree frowned. "Why not? Do you have anything better to do?"

"Anything's better," he snapped, turning away from her.

Anger settled in the pit of the middle bionic's stomach. She had _not_ just cancelled her plans with Caitlin to receive this treatment. "You and I are hanging out, period," Bree growled, grabbing his arm and pulling him to his stumbling feet.

"Hands off, cupcake," he snapped, ripping his arm away and resetting his stance.

"Don't you 'cupcake' me – you really need to cut it out with the names."

"Does it bother you?"

"Yes!"

"Cupcake." He smirked at her reaction of distaste. "Princess. Kitty cat."

"Seriously, knock it off! I'm trying to be nice to you."

"Don't bother," Adam said without taking his eyes off of the TV screen. "He killed our real brother, remember?"

Sadness streaked Bree's face for a moment, but she calmed herself and resumed her annoyed expression. She was unable to hide its haunted hue, however. "C'mon Spike. Let's go for a walk."

She took hold of his wrist and led him out the door; this time he let her, being too perturbed by what had just taken place to care much. Adam's animosity seemed to ebb and grow, flaring whenever he was doing something that reminded him of Chase. When Spike happened upon him at these times, he was the victim of a lash of anger and loss.

Leo wasn't much better. While he did not actively take his anger out on Spike, he wasn't terribly nice either. The youngest boy often found himself at Adam's side, the two allied in their pain. Whatever Adam said was what Leo was thinking, and whatever Adam did was what went.

But Bree was a mystery. Of all his family members, she seemed to be the most likely to hate him. After all, she had been the most hostile to him in the first place. It always surprised him whenever she showed him kindness rather than let loose her wrath. He was bewildered by her.

"Why are you doing this?" Spike asked as they were exiting the driveway and tracing the right side of the road.

"You're my brother," she replied simply.

"No I'm not," Spike argued, looking right into her eyes. "I'm just an evil application that took over and killed your real brother."

"Is that what you think about yourself?"

"That's what it is. Haven't you listened to Adam and Leo?"

"But what do _you_ think?"

He frowned before looking away. "That doesn't matter. It's what it is."

"Do you think of yourself like that?" Bree pressed.

"No, I don't," Spike answered in a clipped tone. "Why would you care?"

"Because you're my brother." She cocked her head, chewing her lip.

Spike kicked at a pebble. "No, I killed him."

"I know," Bree said in a shuddering breath. "But you're my brother too."

He looked at her in astonishment.

"Maybe I don't know you as well and you don't know me either, but you've been around all along. You have as much right to… well, your body, as Chase does."

"I'm just a dumb machine!"

"I don't think so."

Spike blinked. "Something must be wrong with you. Has your silly little phone finally melted your brain?"

"Ha, nooo," Bree objected. "You're more human than we give you credit for. You think, you feel, and we've forgotten that. But I'm remembering now."

"Are you sure that it's not just because you're holding out for Chase?"

She paused. "That's part of it, I guess."

"You're stupid then," Spike snarled, his mood foul once more. He had a mind of turning to go back to the mansion when Bree's words stopped him.

"I love you just like I loved Chase. You're my little brother, no matter what anyone else says. Don't forget that, Spike."


	53. Chapter 53

**AN: Warning - Asori is very proud of this chapter and the reader might die of laughter at some parts. And then possibly cry. The reader should also note that Spike can get kind of gross and inappropriate, so a strong stomach is advised. Asori hopes the reader will enjoy this chapter.**

* * *

"So, how's rugby going?"

Spike shrugged, saying "I'm the left wing."

"Is that a good thing?" Bree asked.

"Yeah. It's 'cause I'm faster and more aggressive than the others."

Bree traced her finger across her cheek, snagging the thin chunk of hair that had caught on her lips and flinging it out of the way. The wind simply blew it back into her face again. She looked up into the gray sky. The ponderous clouds had rolled in since she and Spike had left the mansion forty-five minutes before, and their heaviness seemed to affect the mood between the siblings.

In the attempt to lighten it, Bree tried a new topic – one she actually knew something about. "So, you and Kenzi – anything happening with that?"

Spike darkened. "No. Don't ever say that name again."

"You don't need to be bashful," Bree laughed.

"I'm far from bashful," Spike snarled. "I want to rip out that wannabe warthog's tongue to use as a stress ball."

"Whoa." The middle bionic's eyes widened. "What'd she do to get you so worked up?" But upon receiving a vehement glower from the app, Bree dropped the subject.

A car passed them, shaking the ground and sending a gust over the two of them. Spike clamped his hand down on his hat and Bree hastily fixed her hair.

"So, um, you've been listening to music lately – what have you been listening to?" Bree asked awkwardly.

"Stuff."

"What stuff?"

Spike was not amused by the question. "Stuff."

"What's your favorite song?"

He shrugged, kicking at a weed poking out of a crack in the curb.

"Come on, Spike," Bree groaned. "Humor me."

Spike smirked, recalling how Carter often said the same thing. He replied as he did to Carter: "No, I'm humoring myself."

"You doofus," Bree chuckled, shoving him a little. Spike shoved her back, sending her lurching a little ways into the quiet road. "Hey!" she exclaimed, stepping back into safety. "It's on!"

The two of them pushed each other around, gradually getting rougher as the game continued. Bree would squeal when she would almost fall, and when she would shove Spike in return, he would catch himself and cackle.

On one particularly hard shove by Spike, Bree responded with a hip-check, sending the youngest tumbling down the slight hill of grass along the side of the road. She had hit him so hard that she couldn't stop herself from falling with him.

When they reached the bottom, Spike just let himself flop to rest, sprawled on his back across the soft little stalks. Bree came to a stop before rolling onto her stomach, studying the app.

"That was really fun – that's more fun than I've had in a long time," Bree chuckled.

"Rugby's better," Spike said into the air.

"Eh, maybe. But I'd rather do this with just my brother than with a bunch of sweaty guys."

"No dog piles for you?"

"No, this is fine. It's better than hanging out with Caitlin."

"What do you kitties even do?" Spike scoffed.

Bree set her jaw in irritation. "We are _not_ kitties. And we go to the mall and window shop or talk. Usually we end up sitting on the edge of the fountain and Caitlin fishes out all of the coins."

Spike snorted with disdain.

"Hey, she's one of the only friends I've got – Stephanie makes sure of that."

"Who's she?"

"She's the cheer captain and the most popular girl in the school. She hates my guts."

"Why? Your guts would make great beanbags for a game of beanbag toss."

"Ew. You're disgusting, you know that?" Bree's face was twisted in a grimace.

A sly smile danced across the app's lips. "I'm serious – just eat a good lunch before we cut you open, and then they're already stuffed!"

"Eewwww, gross! Stop it, Spike!" Bree hollered, plugging her ears and squeezing her eyes shut. Spike hooted with laughter, letting his arm droop over his face.

"What is it with boys and being absolutely disgusting?" Bree grumbled when she finally unplugged her ears, blinking her vision back into focus.

"It's fun," Spike snickered.

"You're not even a real boy, and you're the worst of them all!"

"Not a real boy, huh? Want me to prove it?"

"No, no, no!" she said quickly, her face flushing. "I mean, you're artificial intelligence – you aren't a real human."

"Does that even matter?" Spike snapped, suddenly cross.

"Well, I mean, in TV and books and stuff, artificial intelligence is robotic, it works because of fancy tech stuff. It can't feel emotions or understand people."

"I'm not an _it_."

"I know," Bree mumbled. "You are way more complex. You _do_ think and feel; you are practically human…."

"Yeah, I am," Spike breathed.

"Are you sure you're not actually Chase?" Bree asked abruptly.

"Do I _look_ like Chase to you? Er, _act_ like Chase to you?"

Bree pursed her lips. "Not at all. But… I don't know. There's this personality disorder-"

"I know, and that's not what it is."

The middle bionic was taken aback by the hostility that had seeped into his tone. She explained herself with a tentative note to her own tone. "But, like, the person will deny it in all branches besides the main one, and each branch seems like a whole different person. It sounds a lot like you and Chase."

"That's not us!" Spike roared. Birds in a nearby bush exploded from the branches in a flurry. "I have nothing to do with Chase."

Bree rolled onto her back, staring into the sky. She couldn't help the ache in her heart at how the clouds looked about to cry.

"You really killed Chase?"

"Do you think I lied?"

"You've lied before."

"I. Murdered. Chase. Chase Davenport is _dead_."

"Don't say that," Bree choked.

"Saturday night? I saw him face to face. I _destroyed_ him."

"What?"

"I pointed a gun at his heart. And I pulled the trigger."

"No, no, stop," Bree stuttered, unable to stifle her sobs. Tears streaked freely down to her ears and into the grass. "I hate you," she whispered.

"About time," Spike grunted, closing his eyes.

Bree sucked in a shaking breath, saying "I can't, I can't be mad at you. Chase wouldn't have wanted that."

"Psh, are you kidding? He hated me more than anyone else."

She squeezed her eyes shut.

Spike pretended to think for a moment. "I hated him too. Still do."

"No, Chase didn't want anyone to hate anybody. You're wrong," Bree argued. She had to believe there was a reason not to hate Spike, she just had to, or else….

"Whatever you need to tell yourself, princess."

"No, you're my brother too, and I refuse to hate you. I can't live like that."

"Sure you could. Adam and Leo are already doing it.'

"And they're wrong!"

The two of them sunk into silence, filled only with Bree's huffs and sniffles. Occasionally there was a hiccup heard from her as well. Spike only simmered.

The silence was finally broken when both their phones buzzed, the mission alarm going off. Bree shot up into sitting position, Spike casually pulling out his phone from where he was at. "A mission…?"

She quickly wiped away her tears, standing and in turn pulling the app to his feet. "We have to go."

"Even me?" Spike was about to ask, but his words were lost in the empty air as she _whooshed_ them away.


	54. Chapter 54

Spike tugged at the sleeve of his mission suit, his stare unfocused as Mr. Davenport rattled off the mission.

"…common thief, shouldn't be too much trouble. The cameras caught him, and the weapons he stole have trackers in them. I'm sending you the signal, Bree, so that you can find them."

After a moment of listening to the mogul's fingers tapping on the cyber-desk, Bree twitched. "Got 'em."

"Remember that you have me on the com if you need help, but I don't think you will," Mr. Davenport stated.

"Hm, we're hunting down a guy who single-handedly broke into your weapons facility and stole a bunch of powerful, military guns, and you aren't worried?" Bree asked sarcastically.

The billionaire shifted. "Of course I'm worried for your safety, but he stole prototypes – half of them don't work!"

"Let's hear you say that when one of us gets shot," Bree deadpanned.

"We won't get shot, not after I take him out," Spike cut in.

"You're not the only one on the team," Adam growled. "You're not even the most powerful!"

"You want to bet that?" Spike exploded. "Let's prove that, right here, right now!"

"No! Stop!" Bree shouted as Mr. Davenport exclaimed "Guys!"

"Not here, not now, not ever!" Mr. Davenport continued, glaring at the boys. "You have a mission, so knock it off."

"Bree and I have a mission, not Spike. He's not on the team," Adam burst out.

"Yes, he is – and he's your mission leader, whether you like it or not."

"What!"

Even Bree appeared surprised, and she looked at Mr. Davenport worriedly. "Mr. Davenport…."

Spike faced her, his dark mood about to snap dangerously. "Turning on me now too, are you?"

"No, I- I don't know if you're ready…."

"That can't matter – if we switch up the roles now, the team will be chaos," Mr. Davenport interjected, saving Bree from having to explain any further. "Spike's mission leader, end of discussion. Now go!"

Before Adam could object, Bree grabbed his and Spike's arms and sped them away. They came to a stop alongside a highway, Bree saying "He's driving along this road, he'll be here any moment."

Spike looked around, seeing that just across the multi-lane road was a shipping dock. The cords on the cranes swung in the wind, the ocean waves barely bobbing the freight ships being loaded. Glancing behind him, he noted that a dirt field was all that greeted him.

"I'll stop him," Adam said darkly, taking a step toward the busy road.

"Adam, what are you doing?!" Bree cried out, clasping his arm.

"I'm going to punch his car," Adam said with a shrug.

"You won't even put a dent in the car," Spike scoffed, crossing his arms.

"No, I'll destroy it," Adam argued. He was determined to prove to the app that he was not a wimp, but that he was the bravest and toughest of them all.

"Leave it to the real man, and I'll show you how it's done."

"You'll be a pancake, and then I'll have to go get ten times more syrup!"

"Guys, stop it!" Bree yelled. "He's coming!"

The boys whipped around and followed their sister's gaze, their eyes drawn to a teal car speeding down the freeway among the rest of the traffic. Spike was studying the car dazedly when movement caught the corner of his eye, and he realized that Adam was running out to the lane the car was travelling in.

"Wait, no!" Spike yelped, but it was too late. He was frozen in place.

Bree gasped when she in turn saw her oldest brother going out there. "Adam!"

Honking and screeching rang through the air as passing drivers swerved to avoid the oldest bionic. But the thief did not slow, desperately looking for a way to continue around the boy. Adam only moved back in his way.

"I can't look." Bree grasped Spike's shoulder in an iron hold. Spike, however, couldn't tear his eyes away.

Adam took a long stance, holding his left hand out towards the car and cocking his right back for the death-punch. A split-second before the inevitable impact, he brought his right hand down in front of him, clenching his teeth in fear.

For the commando app, time slowed almost to a crawl as his super-intelligence kicked in. The car – it was decelerating from sixty-six miles per hour, and at its course, impact would be at thirty-nine miles per hour. Adam – enhanced bone strength, but his bionic strength was only as high as an eight out of ten. The oldest bionic had a slim chance of surviving, according to Spike's calculations.

 _Do something!_ he shouted at himself, but not a sound ghosted through his lips. In fact, no sound could be heard in this time-freeze. There was no shriek from Bree, there was no cry from Adam. No motors, no tire-on-tar. Not a breath, not even a heartbeat.

Spike was helpless.

"Noooo!" he screamed, shattering the ice that trapped him in time.

The horn; oh, that wailing, terrifying horn. Squealing tires rent the air even as the crunch of metal crackled and screeched. Adam's feet dug through the tar from the force of the collision, the car pushing him back nearly fifteen yards. The front of the car twisted around him, and he shoved it to the side of him so that the dying motor wouldn't chew him to pieces.

The other cars slammed on their brakes, dodging the scene, running off the road, or adding to the crash with more horrendous collisions.

Bree gripped Spike harder, looking up. Relief washed over her face to see Adam still standing, if bent a little. To the siblings' shock, the thief jumped out of the car without warning, hobbling to the nearby car of some good Samaritan who had stopped to help. The maroon vehicle had been left running in the driver's haste, and so the thief simply hopped behind the wheel to maneuver around the pandemonium and begin racing towards the docks.

Adam had tried running to stop the thief, but Spike saw that the older boy was trapped in the twisted grill of the thief's car. "Bree, go help those people and Adam – I've got the thief!"

"I'm the one with super-speed!" she blurted.

"But he has to get across the other highway!" Spike replied, taking off at a sprint before she could respond. He raced across the grassy median, quickly closing the distance between himself and the thief as the guy tried to find a break in the traffic to cross.

As Spike was about to grab the rear fender, the thief gunned the acceleration and shot across the road, roaring to the safety of the other side with only milliseconds to spare from another crash.

Spike didn't think, he only acted. He ran right behind the thief, dodging through the cars on instinct. He took no notice of how passing cars would shake him with their wind and horns alike.

As soon as he was in the clear, he poured on the extra speed. The thief had only the front half of the car over the wood edge of the dock when Spike finally caught up to his prey. With a flying leap, he landed on the back of the top of the car, clamping down on the metal with the activation of his magnetism app. He pulled himself up, panting for breath.

The thief pounded on the ceiling of the vehicle, startling Spike a little. The app pounded back and added a roar for good measure. He needed to find a way to extract the thief from his metallic shell of safety so that the app could pound him in and turn him inside-out for what he'd done.

With a lurch, the vehicle rocked over the rest of the edge of the dock, squealing forward. Spike smirked at how he was not thrown off, and he scooted up to the front end of the car. Swinging himself down, he crashed through the front passenger window feet-first, shoving the rest of himself in.

"Arrrrgh," the man cried out in alarm, accidentally yanking the wheel to the left. They both flew to their right, the man trying to correct it as he fumbled for something in his jacket pocket. He only took his eyes off of Spike for brief moments to keep from crashing.

"Stop the car – I've got you!" Spike shouted, diving for the steering wheel. As he got a hold of it, he pulled it to a severe right.

"What are you- crazy-!" the man exclaimed as they headed straight towards a large steel storage unit, throwing open his door and jumping out. Spike kicked off from his own door across the seats, diving through the hole only moments before the vehicle swerved into the storage unit. More wails of destroyed metal rent the air, a blast of fiery heat singeing the air.

The commando app activated his shield in time for him to hit the ground, rolling on it and pulling it up just in time to protect himself from four consecutive bullets. He could see through the transparent blue force field that the man had made it to his hands and knees, aiming a handgun directly at him.

Spike rose to a crouch, keeping himself blocked from anymore shots. "Give it up – you can't win!"

"What the heck are you, freak?" the man growled.

Before Spike could reply, there was a throaty battle cry, and a limping Adam charged around the disfigured storage unit into sight. The man's eyes flicked to Spike, and he swung his gun around to aim at Adam.

Without thought, Spike reacted – he _calculated_. In the space of a _bang!_ he threw out his hands, shooting his force field out from him to block the bullet's path. But the thief was already bringing his gun back; Spike met his eyes for an eternal millisecond before the second gunshot rang out.

"No!" Adam's roar tore from him, and before the thief could reload, Adam had reached him. The oldest bionic kicked the gun out of the man's hand, lunging into him and shoving him over with brute force. The thief was no match against the strongman, and it only took one punch to knock him unconscious.

Adam turned back to his little brother, a look of horror paling his face. Spike's expression was of stone, his eyes unseeing.

"I'm shot," the app whispered. It was that statement that triggered the screaming pain to ring in his ears and coat his tongue with bile. His mouth remained open as he sunk to the ground.

Adam's feet moved without his thinking, and he was at the youngest bionic's side in seconds, kneeling down. "Spike," he mouthed.

"Fine, I'm fine," the app grunted, squeezing his eyes shut. _Pain… pain… pain…._ He had to bite his tongue to keep from crying, so instead a groan seeped through his teeth.

"Just relax, let me see where you're hurt," Adam mumbled, swallowing. He tried to shift Spike so that he lay on his side, but the app hissed, growling a string of cuss words.

Adam bent down, crawling around to see that his brother was soaked with blood just below his left armpit. "Oh gosh," the older boy choked.

Upon hearing this, Spike swore. _Don't tell me this is it._

"We need to get you to Davenport."

"Don't touch me," the app snarled.

Disregarding this, Adam gently wiggled his hands underneath the youngest bionic, scooping him into his arms with care. Another bout of swearwords spilled from Spike's mouth, but he didn't fight the strongman. Weakness dizzied him, and he let himself fall limp.

Adam stepped lightly across the wood, and then across the grass back towards the road. It had started to sprinkle by now, the miniscule droplets hovering in the air and stinging Adam's eyes. Spike's were closed.

The oldest bionic looked down at the app, noticing how pale he was, how his lips were slightly parted with the pink of his tongue just peeking out; Adam was certain that the boy had fallen unconscious.

The strongman did not dare to look at how much blood stained their mission suits.

He stopped just before reaching the first side of the road. Red and blue lights flashed, a swarm of police cars, fire trucks, and ambulances clogging the other side. From his point of view, he could make out three mutilated cars. Glass sparkled in the weak sunlight.

His eyes immediately picked out Bree, who had just stepped back to let the authorities do their job. She melted into the small crowd of people, holding herself in distress. Her eyes swept around her to land on those of her older brother.

For a timeless moment she beheld her younger brother lying motionless, and her heart stopped. Without caring about the people around her, she super-speeded straight to her brothers. "Adam…."

Adam's face was stricken. "We have to help him."

"Let's get out of here," she whispered.


	55. Chapter 55

Spike bit down on the rag shoved in his mouth, moaning. His hands were clenched taut, one on the edge of the cyber-desk and the other on Adam's forearm. Adam winced in pain, but he didn't say anything.

"Hold on Spike," Mr. Davenport muttered, prying the wound with a pair of tweezers. The tweezers bumped into an especially sore spot, and the app jerked with a muffled scream. Bree flopped onto his legs, trying to hold them down.

Mr. Davenport pulled back, setting down the bloodied tweezers with the rest of his medical tools. "The bullet's not in you – it just grazed you. It shattered a couple of your ribs in the spot and ripped you open, but considering what it could have been, you got lucky. He missed your heart by three inches."

Leo gave a low whistle from where he had joined them, slouching to the side in his mission specialist chair. The others ignored him.

Mr. Davenport moved aside the bloodied towels they had used to stop the bleeding from before and dug out clean bandages. Spike sat up with a grimace, and the billionaire carefully wrapped the bandages around the app's bare upper torso and around his shoulder.

When he was done, the billionaire handed Spike a fresh t-shirt, saying "With your advanced healing, not to mention your capsules, you will probably be fine in a week."

Spike forced his aching jaw to open, prying the saliva-soaked cloth out of his mouth. He didn't say anything, but his expression portrayed his displeasure at the news.

"So, tell me again what happened," Mr. Davenport said, crossing his arms across his chest. Bree let go of Spike and went to stand by Adam, who had moved to face the mogul.

After a long moment, Adam finally broke the silence. "It's my fault, Mr. Davenport."

Bree looked to her older brother with a soft expression, but she didn't dispute what he said. Spike stared at his feet.

"I ran in front of the thief's gun, and Spike exposed himself to block the shot," Adam explained.

"That doesn't account for how many other people got hurt – five civilians ended up in the hospital, one of them in critical condition," Mr. Davenport said in a dark tone.

The bionics hung their heads, Bree holding her hand to her face.

"That's my fault too – I went in front of the guy's car to stop him, and I caused the crash," Adam confessed in a watery voice.

"How could you be so careless? You almost killed so many people today!" Mr. Davenport exploded. "Bree, why didn't you follow the guy to wait until he was off of a busy freeway? Adam, why did you ever go in front of that car just to stop him when you could have waited? Spike was almost killed – you could've all been killed today!"

The older two bionics cringed. Adam's hands trembled.

Guilt settled in the pit of Spike's stomach, and he opened his mouth. "I egged them on," he said quietly.

"What?" Mr. Davenport asked, his tone soft and equally dangerous.

"I didn't lead them. I didn't make decisions; instead I fought with Adam."

This time it was Mr. Davenport's turn to let out a whistle, but his was of anger. He put his hands on his hips, walking in a small circle. "Of all the times for the com not to work…."

Silence weighed down the lab, the kids stiff in anticipation for the blow-up. Finally it was broken with the billionaire's quiet command. "Adam, Bree, you can go clean up upstairs. Leo, go with them."

The three of them padded out of the room, none saying a word. Mr. Davenport turned to face the youngest bionic again. "What were you thinking?" he demanded bluntly.

Spike met his eyes. "I wasn't."

"Good, you aren't making excuses."

"Excuses are for cowards."

Mr. Davenport nodded before jumping into his rant. "Why can't you put your grudges behind you and just get a job done? Lives were at stake today! You completed your mission, but in doing so you made a bigger mess worthy of its own mission, not to mention jeopardizing your identities! You're lucky few people were actually paying attention to you three! Did you really have to pick a fight when teamwork was most crucial? Why can't you be more like Chase?"

Spike glowered at the mogul. "I'm not Chase! Chase is dead!"

"Yeah? Well Chase is the one we need on the team, and you obviously can't do the job! What was _I_ thinking, letting you take his place? You're clearly not capable!"

"I was the one who stopped the thief!"

"That's not all that matters – what really matters is keeping people safe while you do it! If innocent people die because you can't lead the team, you have failed!"

"If people get in my way, then it's their own fault!"

Mr. Davenport's demeanor grew poisonous. "Shame. On. You." With that he stormed out of the lab, leaving the app to brood.

Spike slid to the floor, wincing. With slow and fluid movements, he pulled the shirt on and leaned against the cyber-desk. _So, no more missions._

Despite how stressful the mission had been, not to mention being shot, Spike had still kind of _enjoyed_ the experience. It was real action, it had real purpose. But not being able to go on any more… he was irked.

 _I was actually pretty great,_ Spike decided. _I could have single-handedly stopped the thief – without getting injured – if only Adam hadn't interfered._

But Mr. Davenport's words stung him again, deflating the balloon of pride that had swelled within the app. No, he had been a failure.

Spike huffed a shallow breath. It had been two-and-a-half hours since he had been shot, and every minute of that time had been torture. It was already melting together in his mind.

He rolled his eyes when he remembered that he had had to be carried by Adam – definitely not the macho way to go. He had not actually been unconscious, but his deliriousness did prevent him from doing anything. And so he had had to simply lay there as a drooping ragdoll. Great.

 _Adam was actually kind to me,_ Spike realized. But his thought-process darkened again. _He's probably only thinking of Chase. He doesn't actually care about me._

 _Good. I wouldn't want him to._

Spike sucked in a large, shuddering breath, but pain exploded in his side. "Aaaack!" he yelped, biting out another cuss word. He squeezed his eyes shut. "Nothing like getting shot," he grumbled through his teeth.


	56. Chapter 56

_Bang!_

The noise jarred the commando app's sensitive hearing, and he flinched. More slamming lockers chorused, and when he had dumped his books from his bag, he added his own clang to the noise.

Blowing out a small breath, Spike tenderly heaved his backpack to his shoulder. He hissed, squeezing his eyes shut a moment. _Yow!_

He turned and began plodding to the boys' locker room, padding down the small ramp leading inside. Most of the other sports guys were already almost done changing, so the app didn't have to weave through so many half-dressed teenage boys.

Spike was turning the dial of his lock when he felt a heavy hand clamp down on his shoulder. He whipped around to punch the guy, but stopped when he saw that it was Adam. He darkened.

"What do you want?" Spike snarled.

"I don't think you should play rugby today," Adam said without beating around the bush.

"I'm not letting a bullet stop me," Spike growled in an undertone.

"Yeah? What happens if I do this?" Adam punched Spike's left arm, which was hanging at his side. The youngest bionic howled an impressive array of swearwords and threats, too busy fighting the pain to hit Adam in return. He could only glare at his older brother, baring his teeth.

The locker room had fallen nearly silent at this display, the other boys peering around to see what had happened. Confusion, concern, and amusement colored their expressions.

"You really shouldn't swear so much," Adam said through his teeth, trying to hide a wry smile.

"We'll see what comes out of your mouth when _you_ get shot," Spike rumbled, forcing fast, shallow breaths. "Next time you pull a stunt like that, I'm going to rip out your pelvis and use it as a Frisbee!"

Adam nodded curtly. "You're not going to play rugby today. Or until you're better."

"Yes I am!"

"Want to feel that again? That's what'll happen when they hit you."

Spike glowered at him. "Why would you care?"

Adam came in close, saying "You saved my life yesterday – why would _you_ care?"

Spike rubbed his face irritably. "Don't mistake duty for caring, meathead."

Adam's eyes narrowed, and he backed away, licking his lips once. "This is my duty. Don't mistake it for caring either."

Spike nodded in approval, but he sensed that somehow, something between himself and the oldest bionic had changed. They had both just said the opposite, but in a way, they had both stated that they cared. The app was loath to admit it, but while he despised the company of his family, he wouldn't let anything happen to them. They had fallen under his wings of protection whether they liked it or not.

Whether _he_ liked it or not.

"Come on, we're going to talk to your coach," Adam said, walking through the locker room.

"Don't have one," Spike said with annoyance, following after.

"Captain," Adam corrected himself.

"You aren't coming."

"Yes I am."

"No, you're not, dumbnut! Get out of here."

Adam pushed his way out of the front doors of the school, stepping into the sunlight. "I have to make sure you actually do it."

"I can handle myself," Spike argued.

"I know, but you're a liar." Adam darted across the street, Spike right behind.

"No I'm not! When do I lie?" the app demanded.

"Your life is a lie," Adam snapped.

"You lie to _yourself_." Spike was pleased to see that he had hit home, and Adam picked up his pace without response. Now the app struggled to keep up.

But Adam's comment had hit home too. This life never was Spike's to begin with, but he had stolen it, made it his own. _Too late now,_ he thought to himself, shoving away that thought process.

The two of them arrived at the rugby practice fields in little time, and it wasn't hard to pick out Matic. He was the only one who wasn't on the sidelines; he stared down at his clipboard, stepping through the written drills in slow motion. The brothers walked right up to him.

"Matic," Spike said with a friendly nod.

Matic returned the nod, saying "Spike. And…" he looked to Adam. "What is your name?"

"Bob," Adam answered.

Spike hit him, saying "The dimwit's name is Adam."

Matic frowned, but he didn't comment on it. "What's going on?" he asked, gesturing to the fact that Spike wasn't dressed and that Adam was with him.

Spike hardened, and he grumbled "I can't play today. Or next week."

"What? Why?"

"I was sh-"

"Bit by a shark!" Adam cut the app off.

"Kaj!" Now the Slovene was very confused and just as concerned. "You are okay?"

Spike's hand was rubbing his temple; he was battling the urge to beat the living daylights out of the oldest bionic right then and there. "Yes, I'm fine," he muttered. "Just need to let it heal."

Matic studied the brothers for a moment before nodding, saying "I hope you heal fast – we need you. Come watch games and some practices until you do, ja?"

"Will do," Spike sulked. "Not today, though."

Matic nodded again. "Thanks for letting me know."

Spike moodily turned away, Adam shrugging to the Slovene before following his younger brother.

"See, that wasn't so bad," the oldest bionic said light-heartedly.

"It was horrible."

"But you'll be back in no time."

There was a pause of silence between them, filled only with the crunching of the grass under their tennis shoes. Suddenly Spike stopped, facing Adam.

"A shark bite? _Really_?"

"It's the first thing that popped into my head," Adam said, putting his hands up in surrender.

"How stupid are you?"

"Well, you can't tell him what really happened – people don't just get shot!"

Spike pinched the bridge of his nose. "But a shark bite?" He spun on his heel and continued walking. "You're just asking to get beaten to a pulp, aren't you?"

"Can't beat me up when you're like that," Adam smirked. "And really, it's not that bad."

"Idiot."


	57. Chapter 57

Spike set his jaw, blowing out angrily.

He stood just behind the bleachers, staring at the field of rugby players warming up. And not only were they his teammates this time, but players from another school – real opponents.

And he didn't even get to play.

"Stupid thief," Spike growled to himself. He bit down on his lower lip, rolling it between his teeth. He was tempted to just leave, but he'd promised to watch the game. And he wasn't one to back out on what he said.

Spike took off his hat and ran his hand through his hair. How he wanted to leave that hat off, to slip on a jersey and run out there at that moment….

He pulled his hat back on.

Rolling his shoulders, he walked up to the bleachers, hopping up the steps until he reached the top. He didn't feel like sitting on the bench with his teammates – that would be far too much torture. Better to be in the bleachers, at the top where he could have a bird's eye view.

Where he could be disconnected.

He pulled at his t-shirt, fanning himself with it. He wished a breeze would pick up – the day had been unusually hot, and the only thing he wanted more than to be on the field was to be in the ocean.

Where that brainless shark-bite story had come from.

 _"Dude, you got bitten by a shark? Where? You've got to let us see," Carter had pressed, and the rest of the team crowded around._

 _"I didn't come to practice to take my shirt off," Spike grumbled._

 _"Did you get a nice chunk taken from your stomach or something?" Trent asked dubiously. Spike shot him a glare at that._

 _"You think I'd be here if I had?"_

 _"Where'd you get bit then?"_

 _Spike had closed his eyes in frustration. It would only be stupider if he used words, and the only way to get them off of his back would be to satisfy their curiosity. He'd have to show them._

 _He dropped his backpack to the grass, grabbing his shirt and tenderly pulling it off. The white bandages stained with sweat and a spot of rust-colored blood stood out against his tan skin._

 _"Where'd you get bit? Your shoulder?"_

 _"No, meathead."_

 _"Your armpit?" Trent had choked. Chuckles danced through the other guys as well._

 _"Must've been a pretty small shark," Jem snickered._

 _"You sure it wasn't a shaving accident?" Henry grinned._

 _"I don't shave my armpits!" Spike snapped._

 _"Hey man, whatever floats your boat," Jem had said quickly._

 _"I don't! See?" Spike raised his right arm to prove himself._

 _That had had the entire team laughing. Even Matic, who hadn't really understood even half of it._

Spike rolled his eyes. They _still_ teased him about his 'shaving wound'.

That idiotic oaf of an older brother.

The commando app focused back on what was taking place on the field, yearning to be a part of it. His teammates were running last-minute drills while the other team simply warmed up. As if they needed to get any warmer on a day as sweltering as that one.

He tore his eyes from the field and scanned the stands instead. The metal bleachers were not all that full yet, occupied only by dedicated parents and friends. Spike knew that the rest of his family would not show up – they liked him enough only to tolerate a game if he was in it, and maybe not even then.

He didn't care.

Or, at least that's what he told himself.

Spike shook his head. _Stop it, you lily-livered boat of self-pity,_ he scolded himself. That was all he needed to internally say, so with that, he redirected his attention outwards again.

He was briefing over the stands again when his heart skipped a beat before pounding like a drum. Finally it fell silent, sinking to the depths of his stomach. He closed his eyes with vexation, willing himself to calm down.

 _Knock it off, numbskull. It's just a girl._

 _It's just Paige._

He wet his lips.

 _Crap._

Spike sucked in a breath, careful not to over-extend his ribcage. He was unable to drag his eyes away from her, watching her sit down next to her parents not far below him. There was a slight gap between her and the adults, and an even bigger one between her and the end of the bleacher.

The commando app blinked.

He blinked, and an idea rose to the forefront of his mind.

Spike wanted to rip out his own pancreas at the terrible idea.

But he was going to follow through with the idea anyways.

How could he live with himself if he didn't?

 _Just fine, thank you very much._

 _Spike, you are an idiot,_ he told himself.

 _Dang it, I'm doing it anyways._

He plodded down the steps until he reached Paige's row, slipping onto the metal seat next to her. She looked up from her phone to frown at him, and she didn't need to say anything for him to know what she was thinking.

"Uh, the best seat of all the bleachers is right here," Spike said unconvincingly.

"Really?" she asked with doubt coloring her voice.

"Definitely," his voice cracked, and he quickly turned away out of embarrassment. _Crap crap crap._ He wanted to escape and retain his menacing reputation, but that option was already long gone at that point.

 _What the heck is wrong with me?_

After a couple minutes of carefully ignoring Paige, Spike peeked in her direction to see that she had gone back to scrolling through something on her phone. He stifled a sigh of frustration.

Several more long minutes of indecision passed before he tried speaking again. "So, who are you here to watch?"

Of course he already knew the answer.

She looked up from her phone, startled by the question. "Um, my brother."

"Who's your brother?"

"Nick. Nick Irwin. I'm watching him."

"Me too," Spike replied without thinking.

"What?" Paige stared at him with a look of surprise.

Catching himself, Spike grimaced. "I mean, I'm watching the whole team. Not just Nick."

Paige smirked, and for some reason, it warmed the app's heart a little. He couldn't have explained it. "You know the whole team?" she asked.

"Yeah, I'm actually on it."

"Why aren't you playing?"

"An injury," Spike shrugged.

Paige's eyebrows rose, and he got the feeling that she didn't believe him.

"It's not that bad," he said quickly. "I'll be back playing by this Thursday."

Wait, what? Where had that come from?

No, he wouldn't be healed by then!

He stifled the urge to kick himself.

"Really." Her eyebrows still flew high.

"Yeah. Definitely."

Crap.

 _Way to go, Spike,_ he chastised himself.

"So what position do you play?" Paige asked.

"Left wing. I'm the fastest one on the team."

"Hm."

"You can see for yourself if you come on Thursday."

 _Ack! Stop talking!_ he wanted to yell at himself.

"I might come – it depends on how much homework I have," she replied. Spike inwardly withered. He'd have to play, and there wouldn't be a guarantee that she'd even be there.

Spike paused a moment, conjuring a new conversation topic. He needed out of the current train wreck he had put himself in. "Do you play any sports?" he asked her.

"Not competitively. I used to play softball."

If he were talking to anyone else, Spike would have made a nasty remark at that. But instead he simply said "Cool."

The referee's whistle blowing ripped Spike's attention from Paige, and he realized that the game was starting. The Dingoes had possession first, and they began running one of their offensive tactics. The app's focus honed in on Nick, who had taken his place as the left wing for the game.

 _You'd better not screw up,_ he willed his teammate.

A thought registered with Spike, and he looked to the benches. Their team had only one substitute while their opponents had four. _We're going to get tired much quicker,_ he silently groaned.

"Wait, what just happened?" Paige asked under her breath as the referee stopped play.

"There was a foul," Spike explained easily.

She whipped around to face him, her cheeks flushed. It was clear that she didn't think anyone would hear her. "Oh. Right."

"You don't know how to play rugby, do you?"

"Nick talks about it."

Spike smiled. "I'll tell you what's going on."

"No, I'm fine, thanks."

Spike gave her a look. "Seriously. I know what's going on."

She shrugged, turning back to the game uncomfortably. At the change of possession, she couldn't hide her frown of confusion. Picking up on this, Spike took the opportunity to explain it to her. He surprised himself at how gentle he could be about it – it seemed totally against his nature.

But, of course, _Paige_ was against his nature. And it felt so right.

If only she would actually, _really_ talk to him. He could tell that she was just dodging his questions, and he was determined to change that.

Part way through the game, he asked her "What do you like to do if you don't like sports?"

"Music," she answered without hesitation. "I sing, and I play the oboe."

Spike activated his super-intelligence, using it to figure out what an oboe was. It took him only a second or two before he knew what he needed, and he deactivated it so that he could return his attention to the girl sitting beside him.

"Which do you like better?" he asked.

Paige shrugged. "I don't know, I can't decide. I'm better at singing."

"Huh." He paused a moment as he thought about what he should say next. "What's your favorite thing to sing?" He figured he knew the answer to this one too.

Her lip protruded a little as she thought about the question. "After the choir director switched me from soprano to alto, I don't get to sing very interesting parts anymore. I guess I like solos then, especially Celtic-sounding ones."

Spike researched this on the spot too. _When did I become so concerned about knowing stuff? When did I become so, so… nerdish? Gah! Did Chase rub off on me?_

"Do you like making music?" Paige asked, surprising the app with the question.

"Uh, I've never tried," the app spluttered, deactivating his super-intelligence. "I like listening to it."

"What kind?"

"Uh," he wracked his brain for the names. "I like Linkin Park, I guess."

Paige shook her head with a smile. "Just like Nick."

"He's the one who showed them to me."

"Ha, I'm not surprised," she laughed.

Spike chuckled. "They're good. Do you like them?"

"Yeah, but I don't obsess over them like Nick does. Gosh, he's always listening to them."

"Yeah, I listen to them a lot too…."

Paige shook her head again, her smile a little larger.

"What do you like listening to?" Spike asked.

"Pretty much everything out there. I really like this song called _Renegades_ at the moment." Spike made a mental note to look it up when he got the chance.

They returned their attention back to the game, and the app was pleased to realize that the silence between them was easier this time. If he had tried to explain what he was feeling, anyone probably would have called him a lovesick idiot. So he didn't say anything.

But he was living it.

A number of scored points and many conversations later, the final whistle was blown, ending the game. Paige and her parents stood up, and Spike followed suit.

"Hey, it was actually nice talking to you," Paige said as she grabbed her bag from at her feet.

Spike raised his eyebrows. "You didn't think it would be?"

"No, I mean-" She stopped and sighed. "I mean, um, would you want to talk some more sometime?"

Spike's heart leapt to his throat. "Yeah. Definitely."

Paige smiled at that and remained as she was for a moment, as if she were waiting for something. When Spike just looked at her awkwardly, she said "Uh, would you want my number?"

"Oh – yeah," he said quickly, and he dug out his phone. His fingers flew across the screen as he typed out the combination she told him. "You want mine?" he asked when he was done.

"Sure." She unlocked her phone and readied herself to receive the number he would tell her, but instead her phone buzzed with a message.

"I sent you a text," he explained.

"Perfect," she replied, shoving her phone into her bag. "I'll check it in a little bit."

Despite wanting to remain with her, the app's pride reared its head; he wanted to be in control of the situation, so he was going to be the one to leave first. "Well, see you again on Thursday," he said with a smile of faked confidence, turning away from her. It took all of his will to keep him moving.

"Maybe," she called after him.

"Who was that?" her uncle asked, squeezing her shoulder warmly.

Paige opened her mouth, but closed it again before saying "I didn't catch his name."

"He seemed nice," her mom noted.

"Yeah, he was," Paige agreed as she stepped out of the bleachers, watching the boy walk to where the Dingoes rugby team gathered after their close victory. She pulled her phone back out, finding the message. When she read it, she frowned. _What an odd name – I wonder why he's called that._

She put her phone back, but the message continued to float in front of her vision, as simple as it was.

-this is Spike talk again soon-

* * *

 **AN: In case you all are wondering... yes, body hair is a point of pride among many boys. And men. Spike's team is no different :P**

 **Thanks for all the support through follows, favorites, and reviews, peeps! Y'all are amazing.**

 **Stay tuned for Chapter 58!**


	58. Chapter 58

Spike slowly sucked in another breath, allowing his lungs to expand his ribcage. He had to fight the urge to yell out in pain.

 _Ah, screw this,_ he thought with a growl. _This isn't going to help me – I'll just find some pain meds._

He slid down from the bar stool he'd been sitting on, going directly to where Mr. Davenport stored medications that actually worked for the bionics. With the help of his super-intelligence, it didn't take him long to find what he needed. He deactivated his intelligence as he grabbed the bottle.

Holding the bottle up, he saw that there was a piece of paper taped to it. It read: _FOUR PILLS FOR A REGULAR DOSE FOR BIONICS_.

Unscrewing the cap, Spike shook the pills into his hands, realizing immediately that he had poured out an extra one. He shrugged. _I could use the extra pain-blocker._

Setting the bottle down, he switched the horse-pills to his other hand and tipped his head back, popping them into his mouth and dry swallowing them. It required a lot of willpower to keep himself from gacking.

Wiping his eyes from the water that had risen behind them, he closed up the bottle and shut it back into its place. He checked over himself, making sure that he was wearing his jersey and the right clothes otherwise. Slipping on his sandals and grabbing his cleats and water bottle, he exited the lab.

Inconspicuously, he made his way through the rest of the house; he had no wish to speak with his family members. They would only try to stop him from playing. But he wasn't going to let that happen, so he made sure that he wouldn't come into contact with him.

Free of the Davenport mansion, Spike took up a brisk pace as he walked to the football fields at the Mission Creek High School where the Dingoes would be playing another home game. Excitement coursed through him – this would be his first game.

Taking a deep breath, he tested whether the pain medications were taking effect yet. Breathe in, let it out. To his relief, the pain had substantially decreased. It had certainly become more tolerable.

It didn't take long before the bionic reached his destination, and he dropped his stuff down on the ground next to the two other guys who had arrived. They looked at him with concern.

"You're playing today?" Ethan asked, his eyebrows rising in surprise.

"Of course. I'm fine," Spike answered gruffly to mask the lie.

"You're sure?"

"Yes," Spike hissed. He glared at the older boy before gingerly lowering himself to the ground. He was fine. Never mind the fact that he felt light-headed and his stomach twisted in pain.

 _It's nothing – it will pass,_ he told himself. _I'm just dehydrated._ He grabbed his water bottle, sucking down the soothing liquid. _At least it's not the gun wound._

The rest of the team trickled to the usual gathering spot by their bench, the app receiving several worried comments to which he flatly dismissed. He was determined to play, no matter what.

When enough had arrived for them to begin warm-ups, Matic had everyone line up on a side of the field. Spike bit back a moan as he climbed to his feet, taking a place at the end of the line. Running, stretching, agility exercises… the app was not comfortable, to say the least. But he found that as he got into it, the pain faded.

Too bad the dizziness only got worse. Not to mention the headache that had materialized without warning.

Heck, who needed to be in their right mind when playing rugby anyway?

When the warm-ups had been completed and the team was walking back to their waters, Spike found his path blocked by the Slovene.

"Spike, you shouldn't play."

Spike huffed a breath of irritation. "I'm playing, pansy."

Matic blinked, confused by the insult. Shrugging it off, he said "You don't look good. You look… white."

"So do you."

Matic grunted in frustration. "No, that's not what I meant – I don't know the word! Anyway, you could be hurt."

"Whatever – I'm playing."

"I'm serious-" the Slovene began, putting his hand on Spike's chest to stop him.

Spike grabbed his arm, clutching it in an iron-hold as he glowered into his captain's eyes. "I'm. Playing," he snarled.

Now Matic generally wasn't one to be intimidated, but seeing that crazed look of… he couldn't place what it was, but he knew it was dangerous. Staring into the app's eyes, he realized that he didn't have a choice in the matter.

The Slovene ripped his arm from Spike's. "Don't hurt anyone."

Despite his foul mood, Spike smirked. Without saying anything, he shoved past the older boy. Matic blew out his breath, his fists on his hips. Fear boiled in the pit of his stomach.

* * *

Spike puffed a breath of the hot air that seemed to be trapped within him, staring down his guy. The kid was bigger than he was, but that posed no problem for the commando app. He would destroy his opponent anyhow.

He had been avoiding looking at the bleachers all evening, but before he could stop himself, he found himself glancing that way. His eyes immediately landed on the one person he had both hoped and was afraid would show up. He quickly looked away, commanding his heart to stop being so distracting.

The bionic found the referee, his eyes tracking the middle-aged man as he walked to the center of the field. The beginning of the game held a sort of pomp, and Spike hated it – he just wanted to dive into the action right at that very moment.

As the ref brought the little plastic torture device to his lips, Spike returned his gaze to the devil directly opposite. They had possession, so it was his team's job to take them down. He was itching to do so.

With the shrill scream of the whistle, Henry dropped the ball, swinging his foot to meet it in a powerful punt. Both teams took off, sprinting towards the high-flying ball and the guys of the other colored-jersey.

Spike kept his eyes locked on his guy, who was running for the ball. His opponent only had a moment to wrap his fingers around the spinning oblong object before he was freight-trained by the commando app. The two of them flew to the ground, both gasping upon impact.

The bionic wanted nothing more than to roll off of the other boy and into safety where he could protect his torso, which flared with pain in both his stomach and his side. But before he could, he was crushed. Again, and again.

Both teams were piling on, all of the boys fighting for the ball. The tackled player stuck his arm out, and with dexterity, his teammate swooped in to grab the ball and run with it. With that, the players un-piled and took off after their next target.

Normally Spike wouldn't have been fazed, but at that moment he couldn't figure out how to get up. The boy he had tackled was also shaky, but he climbed to his feet anyways. The boy took off after the ball, leaving Spike behind.

 _Get up!_ he silently screamed at himself. Or maybe it wasn't so silent. He couldn't tell.

Sucking in a breath, despite the resulting pain, he pushed himself up. He stood up. He swayed. And he ran. He ran blind.

And collided.

"Hey, watch it!" the kid from the other team shouted. He didn't have the ball, so Spike wasn't supposed to so much as touch him. But he did, and now the app was lying on the ground with grass in his face.

A whistle blew, and people started circling around him. He rolled onto his back and sat up, rubbing his eyes with one hand. If only he could get his four feet to merge into just two….

A hand reached down and pulled him up, and Spike looked up to see six concerned eyes of Matic's examining him. Wait, if things were doubling, did that mean that Matic had three eyes?

"…ou okay? Spike…"

Spike violently shook his head, swallowing. The bile in his mouth sunk to his innards, and they burned.

"Fine," the app croaked. "Fine. Fine, fine, fine…."

"I'm benching you," Matic said.

"No, I'm fine!" Spike exploded. His anger fueled him enough to regain his bearings, and he glared at his captain. "I can play!"

"Nick!" Matic hollered, and Spike cringed. Nick came jogging out, and Matic clapped Spike on the shoulder, saying "You can come back on when you feel better."

Spike opened his mouth to argue, but the ref intervened. "Son, go sit out. You don't look so hot."

Spike might have pressed his case if his stomach hadn't twisted painfully at that moment. Biting down on his tongue, he reluctantly nodded and jogged off of the field.

With obvious dejection, Spike collapsed on the team bench, sitting a ways down from Luke. Luke tilted his head a little to look at the app, saying "Dude, what'd you do out there?"

Spike shrugged moodily.

"What's wrong?" his teammate continued to ask.

"I'm fine. I'm not looking for a half-brained doctor," Spike snapped.

Luke shook his head, turning away angrily.

Spike bent over, resting his elbows on his knees and rubbing his face. Time to activate his super-intelligence and figure out what was going on _without_ others bothering him.

They were so annoying, thinking that they could be helpful.

Using an internal scan of his body, his database sifted through all that could be the problem. He searched through the list it provided until two consecutive items hit him like a bus.

Pain-killer overdose.

 _Lightheadedness. Headaches._

Pain-killer on an empty stomach.

 _Stomach pains._

 _Crap. That's what this is._

 _Thank goodness I'm bionic, or else I'd be feeling a lot worse._

Selecting them, he went into more depth analysis of them – and the second one really worried him.

 _Maybe a hole is being worn into my stomach right now as I sit here…._

He all but fell off of the bench, scrambling over to Carter's bag. Carter brought food to everything. And food was the only way to fix it – if it wasn't already too late.

 _Sorry buddy,_ Spike thought without real remorse as he tore open a trail-mix bag and dumped the contents into his mouth. Luke watched him with mild bewilderment, but he didn't say anything.

Throwing away the empty bag, he dove for his water bottle, chugging half of what was left on the spot. His stomach churned, so he slapped the cap back on the bottle and sat back on his heels to wait it out. His teeth were gritted with the discomfort.

 _I'm never taking medicine again._

* * *

"You're getting off the field if you feel sick, alright Spike?"

Spike nodded, refusing to look back to his captain. The food and water had worked, and after waiting out the rest of the first half, he felt substantially better. Stomach-wise. His head was still out of sorts.

He blinked, focusing on the other team's kicker. As soon as that ball took to the air, the battle would resume. The Dingoes were down by a couple points, and Spike had every intention of changing that.

"Gonna faint on us?" Trent goaded from where he stood to the app's right just a few feet away.

"Gonna squeal again when I break your nose for the second time?" Spike lashed back.

"We're on the same team now," the bully smirked.

"I'll never be on your team."

"But Matic said so."

Spike groaned in frustration. Before he could think of a suitable response, the whistle blew, jarring him back to focusing on the game. His eyes scanned the darkening sky for the ball, tracking the object until it was successfully caught by Jorge.

Carter, directly to Jorge's right, took off running wide, but he was covered immediately. Jem, in front of Jorge, called for and received the ball from his teammate, yelling at Trent, who was to his left, to advance.

Trent did so, and Spike followed parallel. Just as Jem was about to be tackled, he threw the ball to Trent, who nearly dropped it. In the time it took him to recover the ball, he was being shoved into the ground by an opponent who had made it past the offensive line. His arm shot out with the ball.

Spike swooped in, snatching it and leaping over the hands that grabbed at him. Without thinking, he took off running towards a lane through the opposing team.

His arms pumped, his breath puffed, his feet clobbered the ground. He wasn't so light and quick that night – he was just trying to stay on his feet. Everything swam around, and his head felt like a solid brick. His side ached.

The gap between his opponents began to close, and the app panicked. How would he get through them? He certainly couldn't outrun them in his condition. A voice tickled his right ear, and he realized that it was someone shouting his name. Glancing over towards it, he saw Carter across the field waving his hands.

Twisting, Spike launched the ball with all of his might to where he hoped Carter was, and with that his feet tangled on the ground and he tumbled. He caught sight of Carter diving for the ball before disappearing behind opponents and teammates alike.

The next thing he knew, there was a mixture of cheers and groans all around him, and clambering to his heavy feet, the app was rewarded with the news as Jem came running up to him.

"We scored!" the older boy laughed. "Jorge did it – he got it from Carter and scored!"

Spike grinned, steadying himself. "Awesome." He wished he was more excited, but that dang headache….

The guys jogged back to their starting positions, jumping on each other and tussling each other in celebration. "We scored! We took the lead!"

Spike tried not to moan when they pushed him around. They meant well. And, more importantly, he couldn't show weakness. Never weakness.

Especially if he wanted to be allowed to continue to play the game.

From the moment the whistle was blown again, the game became a blur for the bionic. He hit a guy with a hard tackle. He flipped him in the air and slammed him to the ground.

Or maybe the guy was too big for him, and he just crashed into him without any real affect on the guy.

Or maybe they both fell to the ground.

Or maybe all three happened.

Spike couldn't tell.

He ran. And he fell. Or maybe he didn't fall, but he thought he did.

He caught the ball once, but it slipped through his fingers. Oops.

He was pretty sure that he received some chastisement from his teammates.

Jem gave him a really hard time.

Wait, that hadn't been Jem. That was Trent. Trent gave him a hard time.

Correction: no one gave Spike a hard time. He did. They all did. But they didn't.

Rugby was so confusing.

He did remember, though, that suddenly the ball appeared in his hands. With the shout of Matic directly behind him, Spike took off at a sprint. He was running, he was flying-

Spike screamed in agony.

He had been side-slammed. From his left. And with the piling of all the other guys on top him, the app could no longer handle the pain. He fell into unconsciousness with all haste.


	59. Chapter 59

-Your an idiot you know that?-

Spike smiled wryly, letting his left hand flop over the edge of the couch as his right typed his response. -just for u-

-Look I don't really know you that well-

-dont need to-

-Why didn't you just stop playing last night?-

-i wanted to play-

-You got carried off the field.-

Spike pursed his lips. Before he could respond, Paige added -You didn't impress anyone.-

Okay, that stung.

He could only think of one response: -…-

-Look it was kind of sweet what you did but jocks aren't my type.-

-i'm everyones type-

-No, you're really not.-

Dang.

His phone buzzed with another message from Paige. -I just met you on Tuesday and we've only texted a few times can you back off?-

-alright-

There was a pause, and then his phone buzzed again. –You seem like a pretty good guy and I'd like to get to know you more can we just be friends?-

Spike let out a painful sigh. -yes that would be good-

-So did you go to school today?-

-nope-

-Are you okay?-

-yes-

-Ws it that injury you mentioned on Tuesday?-

-yes its nothing-

-Obviously not-

-so what are u up to- he sent her, hoping to change the topic.

-Homework like usual. You?-

-txting u—

-Ha that can't be all your doing.-

-homewrk cant be all your doing-

And in this way the conversation carried on in a less dangerous direction for the app. Which he was thankful for, considering how his ego and feelings alike had been gutted just minutes before.

 _Yeesh, as far as girls go, I'm zero for two now._

 _What am I doing wrong?_

 _Is it me?_

 _Stop being an emotional mess, Spike,_ he scolded himself. _You're tougher than that._

 _All this touchy-feely stuff is getting to me. That, and being physically weak must be making me mentally weak too._

Spike swore under his breath. He needed to get out and do what he did best – break something. As long as it wasn't himself.

He just needed that (…) gun wound to heal already. _And then Spikey will be baaack!_

He focused his full attention back on his phone as he received another text from Paige. Somehow, they had gone from talking about homework to talking about the things they put on their sandwiches – how had that happened? He probably could have found the answer, but he was too lazy to scroll upwards.

As he was typing his reply, there was a knocking at the front door.

"Come in – it's unlocked!" Tasha shouted from upstairs.

Spike slapped his forehead. When would that woman learn that there was a high chance of someone malevolent coming through that particular door? Spike may not have been present for many of the adventures his family had described, but he had heard enough to know that their last name, Davenport, could alternately be spelled D-A-N-G-E-R.

Spike was leaping to his feet when the door opened, and Matic popped his head in. Spike frowned.

"What are you doing here? How'd you find my house?" Spike asked.

"There are signs that tell you where to go," Matic answered with a shrug as he stepped in and shut the door.

 _Davenport, that egotistical twit._

"I came to make sure you are all right; you were… is it, out cold? I think that's how you say it." Matic shook his head. "Good thing Ethan had your sister's number so your family could get you."

Spike cringed at the memory of his waking up. The rest of his family had not been pleased in the least – not only had he neglected to tell them that he had a game, but he played while injured and did more damage to himself. At least he had withheld the part about overdosing on an empty stomach.

"I'm fine, really," Spike assured his captain.

Matic cocked his head. "Why didn't you stop playing?"

"I wanted to play."

Matic gave him a look. "You aren't playing the next game. We'll see about the next."

"What!"

"I'm not going to let you kill yourself."

"Just come to my house to tell me I can't play? You're always telling me I can't play. Some captain." The app's voice dripped with vehemence.

Guilt flashed across Matic's face. "I don't want to-"

Spike snorted.

"-because you're the best American player I have met, and you're a hard worker. But you are making bad choices and take away mine."

Spike set his jaw.

Matic shoved his hands in his pockets awkwardly, glancing down at the floor. Looking back up, he asked "Would you want to hang out? I know I'm not your… favorite right now, but maybe I can make it… better?"

The commando app was torn. On one hand, he realized that the Slovene was right. On the other, he still wanted to punch the guy.

"Do you like… skateboarding?" Matic asked after a long moment of silence.

"Uh, yeah," Spike lied. The truth was that he'd never tried it before.

"Want to do that? Er, wait, you're injured…. No, we can do that another time."

Spike stared at the floor. He was… surprised at Matic's extended friendship. Sort of. Did he really want to spend time with the kid who limited him so much?

 _Yes – I actually respect him,_ Spike realized. _He's not a fool like the others. He's kind of on the outside, like me._

"Want to play some video games instead?" Spike offered without looking up. He turned to set up the game even before Matic said that he would.

When the two of them sat down, Spike pulled out his phone. "Just a sec," he mumbled, pulling up the most recent messages. He replied simply. -sorry im late have to go now talk more later-

"Alright, let's start," Spike said as he threw his phone aside and began selecting through the menu.

The front door opened, and the two boys turned to see Adam, Bree, and Leo entering. "Finally, we're home!" Leo sighed with relief. "No more of that she-demon."

Bree paused when she saw her brother and the Slovene on the couch, saying with amusement "Whoa, Spike has a friend?"

"One more than you," Spike replied easily.

"Oooh." Leo's eyes were wide.

"Um, I don't think so," Bree said, putting her hands on her hips.

"Here, let me count," Adam said, his face contorting as he tried to figure out what it was. His other three siblings rolled their eyes in preparation for his answer. "Uhhh, I'm counting only four for Bree. Wait, doesn't Caitlin only count as a half?"

"You know, I think he's onto something there," Leo commented. Bree slapped him gently across the arm.

"No," she drawled. "Caitlin counts as a whole friend."

"Okay. Then you have seven friends."

Leo's expression was screwed with disbelief, and he mouthed "What?" Bree only sighed, rubbing her temple as she made a prompt exit. Leo was close behind, and after Adam had grabbed a snack, he too left the main living area.

Matic looked to Spike with his eyebrows raised, his bewilderment clear.

"Don't ask," Spike grumbled.

* * *

 **AN: This has been added after the initial update because today (the day after the post) I realized that out of my own idiotic, insensitive nature, I forgot to be a decent human being. Yesterday was the fifteenth anniversary of the 9/11 attacks, and I want to take a moment to recognize heroes and victims, broken families and broken communities. I encourage you to hold a moment of silence and say a few prayers for all of these people. And for the people who committed these horrendous acts - they need the grace of God.**

 **God bless and bring peace to everyone impacted by the attacks of 9/11.**


	60. Chapter 60

"Hey guys, the game yesterday was good, and so was practice – want to get ice cream?" Matic suggested after calling the team to himself at the end of a long practice.

The huddle of rugby players cheered and hooted their approval, the response colored by only a couple of grumbles.

Spike tried to force a half-smile, but it was a pathetic display of being okay. He was still stung by the fact that he had missed yet another game and was unable to participate in practice; he was getting awfully sick of playing the team manager.

"Alright, who can drive?" Henry called out, raising his hand. A score of the older boys also raised their hands in response. "The rest of you can hitch a ride with one of us."

Spike ended up in Henry's car with Carter, but he found that the ride was bitter compared to the ride he'd gotten from Jem almost two weeks before; Henry kept his windows shut and the radio off, his chatter with Carter about the previous night's game the only thing filling the silence. Spike simply set his jaw in irritation.

Half of the team had already piled out from the other cars when Henry's car arrived. Spike studied the storefront, and a small, sly smile graced his lips. _Gunther's Ice Cream™_.

When everyone had made it, they all filed into the store, crowding around the counter along the thin isle. Their team of twelve (Asher hadn't been at practice that day, and Mac and Jorge weren't able to come with) along with the usual number of customers easily filled the store.

"What're you going to get?" Carter asked Spike over the growling machinery.

"Vanilla," Spike answered.

"And?"

"And nothing else."

"Dude, you're boring," Carter barked a laugh. "You have to get something good, like Rocky Road or Turtle."

Spike sighed. "I'm just fine with vanilla."

Carter slugged him lightly, shaking his head with a disappointed smile. Spike rolled his eyes in response.

"Since you didn't ask," Carter said suddenly, "I'm getting Rocky Road. That stuff's always the best."

"You have fun with that."

"I will, unlike you, plain Jane."

"What?" Spike asked, his face scrunched up.

"You're plain as a Jane," Carter smirked.

"You're a Jane."

"Says the 'just vanilla' guy."

"To the meathead."

"Dude."

Spike couldn't help laughing at Carter's loss for words. It wasn't long before they got their orders and moved down to the end of the counter to get their cones. When Spike's number was called, Carter leapt forward and swiped the vanilla cone, dumping a heap of rainbow-colored sprinkles on it before the app could tackle him.

"Hey!" Spike complained, ripping his cone free of a cackling Carter's hand. "Go puke all over your own ice cream, you molerat!"

Carter hooted another laugh before retrieving his own cone, licking up the chocolaty cream.

Spike scowled at him, turning and plopping down at the nearest unoccupied table. Carter joined him.

"Don't be so sour and just try it – you'll probably like it," Carter told the app, swiping his tongue over the brown bulb with protruding chunks of… Spike wasn't sure what.

The bionic stared down at his de-masculine-ized treat, huffing his annoyance. Bringing it to his mouth, he took a bite.

"Sprinkles are a wonder, aren't they?" Carter said through a mouthful of his ice cream.

"No, they aren't," Spike growled, using his tongue to clean out his mouth. Ripping a napkin out of the holder at their table and setting it on the wood surface, the app began meticulously picking off of the sprinkles and flicking them onto the brown paper.

"You're pathetic," Carter observed.

"You're an idiot," Spike retorted. "I should use the ball of your foot as a racquetball for this."

"You play racquetball?"

"I will once I have your hand stretched out on a frame to use as a racquet."

"Yeah? Well, I'll… uh…." Carter frowned. "How do you come up with stuff like that?"

"It's my hobby," Spike smirked. Carter wrinkled his nose, returning to his ice cream sullenly.

"Hey guys," Jem said as he sat down next to Carter, forcing the younger boy to scoot farther into the booth. Spike looked up to see Matic ready to slide in on his side, so he didn't need to be shoved over to make room.

Matic gave Spike a queer look when he observed the app's activity. "You don't like…" he began, but unable to come up with the word, he gestured helplessly.

"Sprinkles," Jem supplied.

"Yeah." Matic looked back to the youngest bionic.

"No, I don't. Carter put them on there," Spike explained.

"Poking the bear, are you?" Jem grinned at Carter.

"It's my hobby," Carter said in a sly tone, shooting Spike a look. The app returned it with a dark, swollen glare.

"Just don't poke him in that shark bite of his," Jem continued.

"Speaking of which, when are you going to play again?" Carter asked.

"I think it's pretty much healed – I'll play the day after tomorrow," Spike muttered.

"Jeez, that'll be three and a half games that you aren't going to play during the season," Jem commented.

"He still has twelve more after, though," Matic interceded into the pity party.

"And I will play every single one of them," Spike growled with determination.

* * *

Three quarters of an hour later, Spike found himself crammed in Henry's car again, but it wasn't half so pleasant company the second time around. Nick wasn't so bad, but Henry himself, and Trent…?

Actually, Henry wasn't bad company either. It was really just Trent dragging the bunch down.

Spike held his silence even as the others talked, merely looking out the window. He wasn't really interested in listening to anything they had to say, so he watched the trees fly by and the cars fly even faster.

At Nick's direction, they slowed to a stop outside a brick-façade town house lining a cramped street. Nick quickly hopped out with a solitary wave before bounding out of the street and up to his front door. A moment later, it struck Spike that if that was where Nick lived, Paige must live there too.

He quickly turned on his GPS, bookmarking the location before they had driven away. Maybe he'd pay Paige a visit sometime.

They continued on for a while, and Spike closed his eyes and ears alike to ignore anything that the older boys might say. He had dozed for some time when the car again slowed, crawling up a small incline. Opening his eyes, he saw that they were in a trailer park just outside of Mission Creek, parked outside of a dingy blue trailer. Trent climbed out of the car without a word, sauntering into his small home without a backwards glance.

This _is where he lives?_ Spike thought to himself in surprise. By Trent's attitude, the app would have thought that he lived on some grand estate. Well, maybe that was an exaggeration, but anyhow, the app hadn't expected _this._

"Where to, Spike?" Henry asked as he pulled out of the shawdy little neighborhood and simultaneously pulled Spike from his thoughts.

"Do you know where the Davenport mansion is?"

"Oh yeah, you're one of them. I always forget that," Henry said without taking his eyes from the road. "Of course I know where that is."

"Why do you forget that I'm one of them?" Spike asked, his curiosity piqued.

"I don't know; you just seem way different from them. It doesn't seem like you do much with them either."

"Yeah… I'm not like them."

Henry nodded. "Not at all."

* * *

 **AN: Hey folks, whatcha thinkin'? Spike's bonding with the team, and with certain members in particular. I personally really like this chapter - it was very fun to write and similar to some of my own experiences.**

 **To address the wonderful Lady Cougar-Trombone's review for Chapter 59, I have always assumed that Bree ended up making other friends, this conviction reinforced by the episode _One of Us_ in Season 4 of _Lab Rats: Bionic Island_ when she sent a text to all of her 'dead-est' (dearest) friends on the mainland. I could be completely wrong, but hopefully it's not detrimental to this story :P**

 **Anyways, all of you who have followed, favorited, and followed this piece are very dead (dear) to me - every email I receive from you guys puts a grin on my face :D**

 **Well, anyways, I will see you in Chapter 61!**


	61. Chapter 61

"You really didn't have to come," Paige blushed.

"But I wanted to," Spike replied. "You sounded… amazing."

"Thanks." Her cheeks glowed even brighter. "I did screw up on the second verse, though – I started singing the words to the first one again. You didn't notice that?"

"How could I?" _With a voice that? It could sooth a Tasmanian devil into a trance. I might know a thing or two about that._

She blinked. "I'm not going on – the judge thought my voice was too breathy to perform the song right."

"Let me get my hands on that sniveling nugget-head so I can rip-" he stopped himself at the expression on her face, grunting and shoving his hands in his pockets. "Uh, rip his judge paper in half." He cringed at the fix.

"Um, I have a feeling that was going to be a lot more violent," Paige said with a nervous laugh.

"Maybe…."

"I didn't know you had that in you."

Spike barked a small chuckle. "My name's Spike for a reason."

"I guess." She eyed him warily. "I was hoping not."

"I don't have to be like that, though," he added with haste.

"Good," she nodded. There was a moment of silence before Paige broke it. "Look, uh, this singing competition took a lot of my time this evening, and I still have homework. I'm struggling in economics, so I should really try and study."

Disappointment flashed across Spike's features before a thought hit him. "I could help you."

"You?" she asked dubiously. Amending herself, she said "I'm sure you're pretty smart, but I'm in the advanced class. You aren't in it – how could you help?"

 _Pretty smart._ Spike smirked to himself. If only she knew…. "You might be surprised – seriously, I know a bit."

"Really, I'm fine."

"You said you were struggling, so I'll help."

"Spike, stop. I said no." She turned to start walking away.

"Why?" he asked after her.

There was a pause of silence. "You don't intend to study at all, do you?" she accused over her shoulder. Spike set his jaw and jogged after her, stepping in front of her and stopping her in her tracks.

"What are you talking about?" he asked, looking right into her eyes. "I'm going to help you with your homework. What else would I do?"

She searched his gaze, her own softening. "You're honest."

Spike snorted. "People call me a liar, but I consider myself honest. I'm not lying to you now. But seriously, why would I be lying?"

She frowned before a small smile blossomed. "Gosh, you're so innocent. Or just oblivious." She stepped around him and kept walking.

"Hey hey hey, what?" he turned after her, catching up to her. "I am _not_ innocent, and I am _not_ oblivious."

Paige laughed at the offended color to his deep tone. "Don't be mad, I think innocence is a good thing." She couldn't stop giggling at his grumbles. "You can help me, but you can't distract me, okay? I don't want to be up all night with there being school tomorrow."

Spike bit back a sly remark, instead letting his features brighten to a pleased smirk. "No worries."

Paige led the two of them to where her mom stood chatting with a few of the other parents. "Mom, we're ready to go."

Her mom glanced at them, pausing a moment. "We?"

"Spike's going to help me with economics." Paige shifted under her mom's prying gaze.

"Spike, huh?" Paige's mom – Mrs. Irwin – muttered to herself. Spike knew that her frown was one of surprise and suspicion at his name.

The other parents standing by looked at each other, and Mrs. Irwin returned her attention to them only long enough to excuse herself from their company. She led the teens a little way apart, telling Spike that she needed a moment with her daughter.

Spike watched the ladies' conversation quickly pick up intensity despite the low volume of their undertones, and he activated his super-hearing so that he might catch what was being said.

"…'s fine, I made him promise that we were just working on homework."

"Working alone with a boy? _Distraction_ is exactly what I'm worried about!"

"Mom, I'm not going to let anything happen. If I have to, I'll tell him that it's late and that he needs to go. Simple as that."

"You barely know him!"

"Nick knows him – and besides, Nick will probably be around. I might be older, but you know that he has this overprotective streak anyways."

"I still don't like this. You're moving too fast."

"Mom! I don't like him like that! We're friends, that's all. He's just helping me with my homework – you're making it out to be more than it is."

Spike inwardly sighed, deactivating his super-hearing. He would win her affections….

He watched Mrs. Irwin finally purse her lips and cross her arms, Paige nodding and saying something to her as they came back. Turning to Spike upon their arrival, she said "You can help, Spike, but you will have to leave by nine-thirty."

"Sounds good," Spike shrugged, playing it cool and innocent. "I'm going to be back at practice tomorrow for the first time in a week, anyways – I don't want to be tired on top of still being sore." He eyed Mrs. Irwin warily for only a moment.

The three of them went out to the Irwin minivan, Paige sitting up with her mother and Spike sitting behind Paige's mother. There was silence in the vehicle for the duration of the ride. Mrs. Irwin's distrustful eyes met his through the rearview mirror several awkward times, and Paige would occasionally glance back at him in apology for her mother's behavior.

It was a relief when they arrived at the small townhome, Mrs. Irwin neatly parking the van along the curb. They all climbed out of the car, and Paige ushered Spike into the house as her mother locked the vehicle.

"If you want to wait down here in the dining room, I'll be right back with my homework," Paige said before disappearing down the hallway.

Spike let his hands sink into his pockets as he looked around. The rooms that he could see were trim, with deep colors and simple but sophisticated metallic adornment. It looked almost classical, in a low-budget kind of way.

Paige's mom came in through the front entry, peeking around the little dividing wall to see Spike standing there alone, casually leaning against the wood table. She grunted to herself, coming into the house the rest of the way and walking down the hallway as Paige had only a couple of minutes before.

It wasn't long before Paige was back, her backpack slung over her one shoulder and hanging open wide. She plopped it on the ground, digging out her economics textbook and setting it on the table.

"Alright Mr. Economics, let's see what you've got," she said, but it wasn't unkind. When Spike stared at her a moment, he knew that she was testing him – she was calling his bluff.

But what she didn't know was that it wasn't a bluff.

He blinked, and in the space of that simple action of making the world black for a split-second, he activated his super-intelligence. "What do you need help with?" he asked her.

"Monopolies and public policy," Paige answered evenly.

"What about that? Is it welfare loss, market power, legislation?" Ugh, he sounded just like a nerd – but he was impressing her, and that was what mattered.

Paige's eyebrows rose in surprise, and Spike was amused to note that she wore that expression for him quite a bit. "Um, well, all of it."

"I think I can help," Spike smiled.

* * *

The commando app found that evening to be quite pleasant, even if it was under the guise of homework. Even despite the few hiccups that invariably rose.

One cause of many of those hiccups was Mrs. Irwin's consistent 'check-ins'. Popping in here to look for her paperclips, rushing through to make sure the window was closed, coming in over there to see if they were hungry or thirsty – there was no end to her persistent appearances at untimely intervals.

Paige's little sisters had also disturbed them; one was eleven and the other was eight, but they might have been the same age for their immaturity. The end to their teasing and antics only came when Paige's patience with them finally snapped and she made her mother send them up to their room.

Oh, and the encounter with Nick couldn't be forgotten.

 _There had been shuffling through the front door, and Nick briefly glanced into the dining room as he walked down the hallway. Spike heard him stop short and backtrack so that he was staring at his sister and her guest._

 _"Spike? What are you doing here?"_

 _"Homework," Spike had said simply._

 _Nick frowned. "You two know each other?"_

 _"Yeah, we're friends," Paige said. Her posture had grown stiff._

 _"I'm not just a rugby player," Spike had added. His sensitive ears picked up the creak of a floorboard as Mrs. Irwin leaned toward their room from across the kitchen where she was pretending to clean._

 _Nick's eyes narrowed. With a curt nod, he had continued on his way._

Besides these, their evening of economics had been fairly smooth. He and Paige had talked about seemingly everything under the sun, all while the app proved his chip's prowess.

Nine-thirty ended up rolling around far too quickly for the app, and it was the expectant clearing of Mrs. Irwin's throat that made sure that the two of them abided to the rules. Not bothering to clean up her class materials, Paige led Spike to the door, watching him slip on his shoes.

"Thank you for helping me – this stuff is a lot clearer now," she told him. "I'll admit, I didn't think that you were serious about knowing this stuff – I guess I didn't realize how smart you actually are."

"I don't flaunt it," Spike shrugged. "Normally."

Paige unlocked and opened the door, and he stepped out onto the step. He paused and looked back up to her as she leaned between the edge of the door and the doorframe.

"Tonight was actually a lot of fun – would you want to do this again sometime, without my annoying family around to bother us?" Paige asked.

"Definitely," Spike grinned.

"You have a ride home, right?"

"Yeah," he waved her off. "I don't live very far from here."

She didn't seem convinced, but she let it go. "Well, I'd better go before my paranoid mother gets all hissy."

"Alright – goodnight."

"Goodnight." Her warm smile disappeared behind the door, and Spike sighed. Sighed from excitement, sighed from relief, sighed from missing her already. The evening had been a very good first step, and he had high hopes for what was to come.

He looked up into the dark sky illuminated only by stars and felt that they were on his side. For once things were going to work out for him, and the feeling it brought was inexplicable. He couldn't keep the bounce out of his step all the walk home.

* * *

 **AN: Hey folks, whatcha think? Kinda a date, mostly not...ish... Paige would argue no, Spike would push for yes. Typical :P Where do you think it will go from here?**

 **Last chapter brought up a lot of great questions and concerns, so that was interesting. And to address a few of those: yes, Chase is not present, get over it :P ; yes, this is long, but there are a few stories even in the _Lab Rats_ archives that are longer and will probably remain longer than this story, so never fear; the point of this story is stated in the title itself and in more clarity in the summary; and yes, Spike would probably like chocolate ice cream - if he would actually try it. But vanilla was his first love, and he is loathe to part with it. Like Asori here, who, however - Fun Fact! - does _not_ like chocolate ice cream.**

 **Before you yell at me that I'm crazy, keep in mind that if it were given to me, I would probably then go ahead and give it to you so that you would get a double portion of chocolate ice cream. Win win ;)**

 **Thank you everyone for the wonderful reviews, favorites, and follows! You guys are seriously the bomb, and you never fail to blow my mind! * _ba-dum, ching!_ ***

 **Anywho, I will see - hopefully - all of you in the next chapter, Chapter 62!**


	62. Chapter 62

Spike stormed into the Davenport mansion, throwing his school stuff to the side of the couch. He was almost out of the room by the time Adam asked "What's the matter, Spike?"

"Nothing," Spike barked. Oh, it wasn't nothing, but the app was on a mission to fix it, and he didn't want to be hindered by the dodo-brain.

Adam got up from the couch where he had been looking at pictures in a magazine and followed his younger brother out to the garage, poking his head in through the doorway. "Whatcha doin', Spikey?"

"Next time you call me that, scumbag, I'm going to tear your arm right out of its socket and make it into a boomerang."

"But it's my birthday tomorrow," Adam pouted.

"Then you'd better not call me that. You're lucky I'm not going to do it right now."

"Why aren't you doing it right now?"

"Because I have more important things to do – now go away!"

"Like what?"

"I said beat it!" Spike stood from the bin he had been digging through, his rugby ball in his hands.

"You already did something with someone's something to make a ball? And now you're going to play with it?" Adam asked in confusion.

"No, I bought this one," Spike snapped, turning and going outside through the side garage door. Adam followed after him, asking "What are you going to do with it? Can I play too?"

"I'm not playing!"

"Then what are you doing?"

Spike's patience snapped. "You know what I'm doing? I participated at practice for the first time since being shot, and I've lost all of my skill! So now I'm working to get it back. Happy, you bumbling buffoon?"

"Can I help?"

Spike stopped in his tracks, turning to face his older brother who stood just outside the garage side door.

"If you're going to throw it around, don't you need someone to catch it?" Adam asked.

Spike heaved a sigh of frustration. "Yes."

"I want to help – can I help?"

Spike slid his hand down across his face. Turning on his heel, he continued on his way to his designated practice spot. "Yes," he grunted, and he knew that Adam had heard when the oldest bionic jogged after him.

"Do you even know how to throw and catch a rugby ball?" Spike asked once they had reached a flat, open part of the yard and stood several meters apart.

Adam chuckled. "It can't be that hard."

"It's not _easy_ , which is why I'm practicing it," Spike said irritably. "We'll see what you say when you can't do it."

Adam shrugged, putting his hands up to catch the ball. Spike threw it with as much power as he had, but his fingers hadn't flicked off of it correctly, so it oscillated out of control. It ended up flying far out of the reach of Adam, and Spike grumbled to himself, clenching and unclenching his fists.

Adam did his best to mask his smirk, retrieving the ball. Cocking his arm back, he launched the ball easily. While it wasn't perfectly on target, it was admittedly a good throw. This further irked the app.

The two of them tossed the ball back and forth for a time, Spike growing more and more frustrated with how good at it his older brother was. While the youngest bionic was getting much better with the repetition, so was Adam. Spike was on the verge of just storming up to his older brother and punching him.

"So Spike, what else do you do in rugby?" Adam broke the tense silence.

"There's kicking, tackling, tearing out peoples' stomachs – we empty and deflate them to wear as socks – the works."

"What?!"

Spike smirked. "Which would you like me to demonstrate?"

"Not the last one."

"But that one's the most fun."

"Do you kick like this?" Adam set the ball on the ground and tried to kick it up and out, but it only spun to the side. He frowned, putting his hands on his hips.

 _Finally! Something I can do that he can't,_ Spike thought to himself. _About time._ Aloud he said "Ha! You don't kick it like that – watch the pro do it." Walking to the ball, he stooped over and grabbed it. He spun it in his hands as he sauntered to his place again.

Holding the ball horizontally out in front of him above the path his foot would travel, he swung his right leg back and then forward with all of the force he could muster as he let go of the ball. The ball exploded off the flat of the top of his toes, rising up and out in a beautiful arc. Both boys paused to admire the perfect kick before realizing where it was going.

"No! My ball!" Spike burst out, taking off at a sprint after it. Adam watched him before it also hit him, and he took off after his younger brother.

"Spike, stop!" Adam yelped, commanding all of his strength to catch up to the app. When he was within an arm's length, he jumped and pulled the younger boy the ground, the two skidding and rolling to a stop.

"Hey, meathead! Ger'off of me!" Spike snarled, climbing to his feet.

"You can't go after it," Adam panted, standing up at the same time. "There's a cliff just through those trees!"

Spike eyed the older boy warily, stalking off in the direction of his ball. After a long moment of brushing himself off, Adam followed.

The oldest bionic pushed his way through the leaves to find the app standing at the edge of the one-hundred-foot rocky drop, his hand to his forehead.

"Do you know where it went?" Adam asked.

"No! How would I know that?" Spike exploded.

Adam stepped up to the edge, peering down. The sun illuminated the rock so that it burned with rustic passion. It seemed as soft as fire itself, but if it didn't burn, it would beat and impale. The gentle vegetation, however, seemed to contrast this rough persona, giving the oldest bionic hope.

"Can't you use your super-seeing or something to find it?" Adam suggested.

"Like that'll help me – I can see well enough to know that it isn't within sight!" Spike paused, an idea striking him. "But with my super-intelligence to guide my senses… it might work."

Blinking, he activated his super-intelligence and his super-senses, sweeping down the cliff, hunting for the materials of the ball. After several minutes of this, his vision lit up red upon alighting on a segment of the woods down below.

"Got it," the app grunted. He turned to look to his older brother and found him lying on his stomach with his elbows off the edge, his fingers forming little make-shift glasses.

" _What_ are you doing?" The youngest bionic was sorely unimpressed.

"I'm helping you look for it," Adam answered without looking up to him.

"Well, I found it, so you can stop being a brainless buffoon."

Adam frowned with mild hurt, but he slid back and stood up anyways. "Where is it?"

"At the bottom, in the trees. I'm going to go get it."

"I'll help."

"No you won't," Spike spat. _What use are you?_

Adam barked a laugh. "I'm not letting my little brother go down there alone if I can help it."

"I don't need you!"

"Maybe not, but it's nice to have someone around to catch you if you fall, you know. And besides, you can't expect to leave me out of the fun!"

"I'm not going to fall," Spike drawled.

Adam shrugged. "You never know."

Spike turned from him, staring down into the blazing abyss. "You're not coming with me."

"You're not leaving me behind," Adam countered. "That means that I'm going to have to go with you – I'll always go with you."

"Idiot."


	63. Chapter 63

Spike's fingers grazed the red rock as he felt for a better grip. He shifted his right foot over farther to the right, scooting his body after it with all care. Adam hung just above him, pulling his feet up to the foothold he'd lost just moments before.

The oldest bionic's scrabbling knocked loose small chunks of rock, several of them hitting Spike. The falling dust swirled around him, threatening to find its way into his eyes.

"Careful, meathead!" Spike barked.

"Sorry," Adam grunted.

" 'Sorry' doesn't keep me from falling."

The two continued on, feeling and sliding their way down with all caution. They used branches of scraggly trees when possible, but otherwise clawed at the rough rock. Spike had a feeling that their hands were going to be shredded by the time they made it to the bottom.

Coming to a particularly large ledge just below him, the app dropped down to it, Adam following suit mere minutes afterwards. The two sat down, taking a breather.

Spike craned his head upwards, scanning how far they'd come. Fifty-two feet stretched above them, and below them yawned a little more than forty feet.

"You think we can jump from here?" Spike proposed thoughtfully.

"Probably," Adam shrugged.

Spike let his super-intelligence kick in, surveying the drop and their chances of coming away from a jump that far unharmed. They weren't good.

"I have a better idea," Spike said into the air. "There's another ledge like this one twenty feet below us – we can jump from that one."

"We could jump to that ledge and then down to the ground," Adam added.

"Ha, no way," Spike shook his head. "If you stick the landing, you'll break something. You'd have to roll to divert the force, and then you'd roll right off the edge."

"What do we do, then?"

Spike bit his lip in thought, staring down at his blistered and bleeding palms. "I don't want to climb any more than I have to… you can lower me down as far as you can, and then I'll drop the rest of the way to the ledge. Then I'll catch you when you jump."

Adam's form began shaking with laughter at that plan, his voice wheezing.

"What?" Spike demanded irritably.

" _You_ , catch _me_?" His laughter renewed, and Spike scowled.

"We'll see who's stronger when I throw you off the edge right here and now!" the app snarled.

Adam shook his head. "Yeah, I guess you're strong, and I might not be smart, but even I know that I'm the bigger one and can catch you easier. I mean, if you miss, my arms are longer, so, you know, you have a smaller chance of dying. If I miss, I _will_ die."

"And that would be your own fault," Spike grumbled. He hated to admit that the older bionic was right.

The two of them sat there a while longer, taking in the scenery. By this time, the sun was in their eyes and painting everything the soft red of a dahlia. The tops of the trees they were level with were black bushy silhouettes against the setting sun, streaking the green-turned-orange grass below.

Spike took one last deep breath. "Let's go," he muttered, his tone gruff with anxiety. He wasn't looking forward to the two drops they faced; after the tree incident, well….

Of course, he was no quivering coward, so he faced the challenge with all dignity.

That didn't mean, though, that he wasn't inwardly trembling at the prospect of another possible fall.

 _No fear. Can't fear. Won't fear._

He pulled his legs up and cautiously climbed to his feet, Adam following suit.

"Are you going to go?" Adam asked in a soft voice. The older boy turned to face his little brother, studying his hard features. Spike's hesitation was the only display of his unease as he crouched back down, finding a strong hold on the ledge and slipping down so that he hung, his feet dangling.

"Go," Spike gasped, and Adam sprang into action. Getting down on his hands and knees, the oldest bionic slipped down so that he hung as well. Grabbing Spike's proffered hand, the older boy let go with his other hand.

Adam's eyes were squeezed shut; he expected to plummet. How could he not? His sudden added weight was sure to overpower Spike and send them both careening to the bottom.

But this was not the case. To his surprise, he was being slowly lowered. Adam looked up to see the app's face red and twisted with clenched teeth and a defiant snarl. His arm bulged with strained muscle as he fought Adam's gravitational force, gradually extending his arm until it hung straight down.

"Grab my legs and slip down until you're hanging by my feet, and drop from there," Spike panted.

Adam did as he was told, fear gripping him as he slid so easily down the app's legs – they were slick with sweat, and the oldest couldn't find a good way to hold on.

Relief came when Adam reached Spike's shoes, and extending his arms, he relaxed for a moment.

"Hurry up!" Spike growled through his teeth.

Without comment, Adam glanced down once before letting go, praying that he would make it. As his feet touched on rock with a painful slamming of unstoppable force, he threw himself forward against the rock, hugging the cliff side.

"Adam!" the older boy heard his name called, but now that his immediate danger was over, he wasn't as quick to respond. _Oh, sweet rock…._

"Adam! I'm falling!"

Adam shot up in time to watch his brother's fingers slide from their perch, letting their master tumble down. Adam reached up, meeting him in the air and using his own body to slow the app's momentum. They both collapsed under the stunt, but it was without injury.

Spike rolled off as soon as he'd caught his breath, but it wasn't soon enough that Adam hadn't noticed how he shook. They both scooted a little ways apart, hugging themselves and recollecting their wits.

After a long moment of silence, Spike finally broke it. "Time for round two?"

"I don't want to do that again," Adam whimpered.

"Oh boo hoo, you're not the one who almost didn't make it."

"We're over grass now and we don't have to fall so far this time – can we just jump down?"

Spike peered over the edge, his flushed cheeks paling. Despite his bearing, his tone was as rough and fiery as ever. "You'd better do it right or you'll be toast."

Adam didn't miss his brother's message. "How about this time I lower _you_ down, and you can catch me?"

"We did what we did for a reason," Spike's muffled words met Adam's ears. The app had turned his face in the other direction.

"We're on grass now – it will be like a big pillow!"

"Not quite," the app grunted, but a smile had crept onto his features.

They both fell into more silence, each watching the blackness of the shadows grow ever more present. The spindly fingers were snaking their way up the rock now, and the sun was completely hidden by the trees they faced.

"Ready?" Adam asked into the quiet.

"Always," Spike replied. Adam slid himself over the edge and Spike rolled to his hands and knees, staring down at his hanging brother. Without either of them saying anything, the app climbed down beside his brother, following the same routine as the previous trial save for the swapped roles.

When Spike was hanging by Adam's shoes, he relaxed enough to let his face press against the rock as he summoned the courage to let go. Staring down, he watched the world swing back and forth below him.

"Spike?" inquired Adam's strained voice.

Sucking in a breath, Spike uncurled his fingers and kicked off of the rock face. Twisting around, he guided himself to a clear patch of grass. Momentum building, building, building….

He bent and buckled his arms in time to make contact with the ground, rolling over himself in a curled ball. He flopped to a stop, laying for a moment in stupefied relief.

Before he could even look up for his dazed wonder at being alive, he both heard and felt a _thump!_ in the grass nearby, and he started. He shot up to attention to see Adam sprawled on the grass.

Spike scrambled to his feet, stumbling over to his brother. The older boy was grinning with his eyes closed, and before the app could wonder if he was dead, the oldest bionic had started to laugh.

"We did it! And it was fun!"

Spike glowered at him, kicking his side. "No, that was _not_ fun! Let's get the stupid ball so we can figure out how to get back up before tomorrow morning."

"Why do we need to figure out how to get up?" Adam asked, sitting up.

Spike wanted punch the older boy. "Because it's going to be harder going up – and on top of that, we have to carry the ball."

"You know, we could just go through the other side of the woods to the road and walk up that way," Adam shrugged.

The app stared at him. Finally, the fury in the pit of his stomach exploded. "There was a _road_ coming down here? And you didn't tell me?! We went down that _blasted cliff_ for _nothing_?!" As low in pitch as the youngest bionic's voice was, he was to the point of screeching.

"Bonding?" Adam put his hands up in surrender.

The app swore. "I hate you!" he yelled, storming off into the trees in the direction where the rugby ball could be found. He was too angry to even look at his brother.

Adam sighed, pushing himself up to his feet sorely. A chuckle escaped him before he took off after the enraged app.


	64. Chapter 64

Spike awoke to frenzied rapping on the glass of his capsule, and he groaned. Opening his eyes, he saw Adam on the other side of the glass, about to explode. Looking to his left, the app saw that Bree had also been woken up as such and was in a similar state of grogginess.

"What?" Spike growled, rubbing his eyes clear of the sleep.

"It's my birthday!"

"Great. Now go away before I make it your deathday."

"Spike!" Bree exclaimed, and the app knew that if they hadn't been in their capsules, she would have hit him. Turning to her older brother, the middle bionic wished him a happy birthday.

Spike rolled his eyes before closing them, attempting to fall back to sleep. This did not work out, as the door to his capsule opened and he was subsequently dragged out.

"Hey!" the youngest bionic spluttered. He shook off Bree's grip, glaring at both of them.

"Can you quit being a jerk for one day? It's Adam's birthday today." Bree gave him a hard look.

"What's so special about a birthday? So you exist, big deal," Spike retorted.

Bree's look turned to one of disapproval. "Yeah, we're celebrating that Adam exists because we care about him. Don't you care about him?"

Spike shifted under Bree's look, but it was Adam's that brought the most discomfort. The day before, while it had brought the bionic brothers closer, still made the youngest angry. But when he thought about past instances, there were good reasons to both like his brother and dislike him.

If Spike were to answer honestly, he would say that he didn't know. But he realized that rudeness wouldn't get him very far. "Um, yeah, I guess."

Bree's eyebrow rose, but it didn't matter as Adam's face lit into a grin. The oldest snapped the app into his arms, smothering him in a giant bear hug.

"Yeah, okay, that's enough," Spike grumbled, shoving his brother off of him so that he could breathe.

"It's breakfast, and Tasha made pancakes – they're actually good this time," Adam informed his sleepy younger siblings. His giddiness was an aura about him, and he seemed ready to explode.

"You've tried one already?" Bree asked.

"More than one – Tasha said that I'd eat them all if I didn't come down to get you guys."

"I think she was right," Bree said with amusement. "Let's go up and eat, then."

As Adam led them out of the lab, Bree hung back with a slogging Spike, whispering to him "Knowing the things that Adam eats, I wouldn't trust his judgment of Tasha's cooking – beware."

Spike smirked despite his crabbiness.

* * *

"Now that's what I call a birthday!" Adam whooped as he burst into the house, the rest of his family piling in after him.

"Yeah, one that makes Leo sick," Leo groaned, holding his stomach and hobbling in. His face was pale with a tint of green still coloring it. It turned out that the non-bionic did not handle roller coasters very well, so a day at the nearest theme park after a breakfast of Tasha's semi-decent pancakes had not gone over all that well for him.

"But you can't have a full birthday without the cake and presents," Bree reminded her older brother.

"Especially the cake. Lots and lots of cake," Spike told Leo mischievously, and the younger boy gagged. He ran for the bathroom, and Spike cackled.

"I don't know, it's getting awfully late," Tasha said with a teasing edge to her voice. "Maybe you all should go to bed and we'll do the cake and presents another time."

"No!" Adam gasped in horror, dropping the stuffed alligator he had won in a carnival game. "We have to do it tonight because I need to start planning what I want for next week!"

"Year," Mr. Davenport sighed.

"Next year!"

The rest of the family members were showing signs of exasperation, such as holding their faces, rolling their eyes, or other such gestures of agitation. Seeing this, Tasha called off her joke. "Don't worry, Adam, we'll do the cake and presents tonight. And hopefully you'll be happy with the gifts you get."

Adam's face lit up, and he scooped his alligator into his arms again. He followed Tasha into the kitchen, and Spike flopped onto the couch.

Bree peered over the top of the couch. "Aren't you going to eat cake with us?" she asked the youngest bionic.

"We're doing that right now?"

"Yup."

Spike heaved a groan, rolling to his feet and following his older sister to the dining room table. Tasha and Adam were there, setting out the cake and paper plates, Donald right behind them with the forks. Leo emerged from the hallway.

"I think I might be okay for some cake now," Leo told his mother as he eyed the cake. The curls of chocolate frosting around the edges were nearly irresistible even to a queasy stomach. The sprinkles dotting it had put off the app, however – he knew that he'd have the tedious job of picking them off ahead of him.

"Really? Even after _Six Flags™_? Don't you remember how it twisted, dipped, and rolled?" Spike reminded Leo with a sly sneer.

"Stop. You're not helping," Leo gacked, covering his mouth with his fist.

"I'm not trying to."

"I can tell. Stop being so mean."

"But then nothing would be fun."

"Torturing me is fun?"

"Yes."

"Okay boys," Tasha interceded. "Time for cake."

"Wait, can we do presents first?" Adam piped up.

"But I already started cutting the cake!" Mr. Davenport complained.

"I want to know what I got," Adam sniffed. Tasha gave her husband a look, and he sighed, setting the knife aside. He, Tasha, and Bree left the room to grab the presents, leaving the boys to their devices for only a few minutes.

"What did you get me, Leo?" Adam asked.

"You have to wait, it's a surprise," Leo replied.

Adam took a moment to pout before turning on Spike. "What'd you get me?"

"It's a surprise," Spike said evenly. Adam frowned at the app's expression – had the younger boy even gotten him anything?

The adults and Bree returned at that point, dumping the bags and boxes on the table around the cake. Adam hopped into his chair, a goofy grin encompassing his features. "I love birthdays! I wish I could have one every year!"

"You do," Leo slapped his forehead.

"Actually, it wasn't until you discovered us that we've ever celebrated birthdays. Remember?" Bree reminded him.

"Oh yeah," Leo replied uncomfortably.

The rest of the family took their seats, watching the oldest pick the largest bag. He broke the ribbon on the handles easily and pried open the bag, beginning to rip out the tissue paper.

"Aren't you going to read the card?" Tasha asked with her eyebrows raised.

"Oh yeah," Adam paused, giving her a sheepish smile. He felt around for the thick envelope, and once he found it, he opened it sloppily.

"Dear Adam, happy birthday. I hope that one day you're just like me," Adam read aloud. He looked up to the mogul. "Thanks Mr. Davenport!"

Tasha shot her husband a look before massaging her temples. Bree and Leo made eye contact before making identical faces of disgust. Spike rolled his eyes. Mr. Davenport beamed, quite proud of himself. "Open it up," he told Adam with a gleam of excitement lighting up his eyes.

Seconds later a large box emerged from the bag. "Whooooa! What is it?"

"It's a hectacopter," Mr. Davenport answered, shooting a look at Leo.

"Isn't that what you got me for my birthday? And then it didn't work?" Leo demanded.

"It's a new model!" the billionaire assured quickly. By the way Leo crossed his arms and squinted at his step-father, he clearly didn't buy it.

Adam set the gift aside and was about to grab another when he paused. Turning to the app, he said "I want to know what your surprise is, Spike."

Spike pursed his lips, his eyebrows raised as he looked from family member to staring family member. "Alright… I'll be right back."

With that, he got up from his seat and walked out the front door. Leo leaned over to Adam, saying quietly "I think he forgot. Sorry, Adam."

"Or maybe he didn't know he was supposed to," Adam shrugged. "I never know that I'm supposed to get something for someone until they tell me I forgot."

"You just forget," Leo deadpanned. "But I guess it makes sense for Spike to not know, since, you know –"

The front door burst open, and in came Spike with his hands behind his back. Leo fell silent, sitting up straight again as the app came over to the table and kicked the chair into the table so that he could stand behind it. Whipping his hands around, he tossed the object from behind his back at the oldest bionic with a gruff "Here. Happy birthday."

Adam looked down at the set of large fake teeth in his hands, his features breaking into a wide smile. He proceeded to stick them in his mouth, giving his family a ridiculous smile. "Awesome! Thanks, dude!" he mumbled to Spike.

Spike simply gave him a curt nod, a small smile gracing his lips.

Leo shot the app a look that portrayed how surprised and impressed he was. Spike ignored him. The youngest bionic instead made eye contact with Bree, who mouthed "You're welcome."

Spike's eyes rose to the ceiling for a moment. "Thanks," he mouthed in return.

Focusing his attention back on Adam, the app and the rest of the family watched the oldest go through the presents, uncovering hidden treasures such as candy, roller skates, and even a remote-controlled car. When there was one box left, Adam gently shook it. "I wonder what it is," he said.

"Don't forget the card," Bree reminded him.

Adam opened it, reading it out loud. "Happy birthday Adam, I hope it's great just like you are. Love, Bree."

Bree blushed as Tasha awed genuinely and Leo awed teasingly. "Just know that even if you're a great brother, you're still a bozo, Adam," the middle bionic attempted to save her pride.

"Thanks sis," Adam grinned. He returned his attention to the box, ripping the paper open and tearing open the cardboard. "Cool! What are they?"

"They're elastic weightlifting bands," Bree told him. "I can show you how to use them sometime."

"Cool!" Adam exclaimed again. "They will go great with the weights I got last year from… Chase."

The air took on a heavier quality at that statement.

"Who wants some cake?" Tasha asked into the silence, standing up. Her movement seemed to break the spell, and the others followed suit. Spike remained standing as he had been, watching them with cold eyes. He had hoped this wouldn't come up….

Mr. Davenport slid over to resume cutting the cake when Tasha cried out "Wait! We need a picture with it!"

"But it's already half-cut," Mr. Davenport pointed out.

Tasha sighed. "We still need a picture. Even if it's not perfect."

"Alright," Mr. Davenport relented begrudgingly, and the others shuffled into place around Adam, the mogul, and the cake. "Eddy, take a photo of us! And no drawing on our faces."

Nothing happened.

Mr. Davenport grunted. "I forgot. I still haven't fixed him."

"And the night is still good," Leo said with a smile for Spike. The app's only response was to raise an eyebrow at him.

"I'll get the camera and set the timer," Tasha said before scurrying from her picture pose over to the drawer by Mr. Davenport's desk that kept such things as old cameras and flashlights. And Mr. Davenport's mirrors.

After several long awkward minutes of silence while Tasha set up the camera, she finally had it in place and joined the rest of her family. "Say cheese!"

"Cheese!"

* * *

 **AN: So yeah, a birthday party :) Watcha thinkin'?** **I might be able to predict it now that I'm telling you that this chapter marks another intermission...**

 **Also, SPOILER ALERT: if you have not yet seen the most recent episodes of Elite Force, do not read the rest of this segment. If you have, I would like to share my prediction with you. So in the last few episodes, Chase was outsmarted by a ten-year-old, named the least powerful character by this ten-year-old and ridiculed by the rest of the team for it, Bree gained superpowers, Oliver finally has a chance with Skylar, the team proved to Skylar how much she means to them, Kaz stole seven of Chase's robotic girlfriends (and Chase outright stated that he was lonely), Bree revealed her superpowers which means that Chase is the only one on the team without any and he knows it, and he was further ridiculed for it. All good things for the others, but not so much for Chase. Anyone else seeing an evil Chase episode coming?**

 **Let me know in a review! Reviews are great, and so are favorites and follows - thanks, peeps! Love ya :D**

 **So yeah, I will probably come back with the next chapter in a week's time(ish). Five days? Idk, we'll see what happens. It won't be too long, I promise!**

 **Keep your eyes open for Chapter 65!**


	65. Chapter 65

"How about right here?" Paige suggested. Before Spike could answer, she shook out the blanket and let it float into place. The billowy cloth was graceful in the soft breeze, complementing Paige's gentle nature. Spike couldn't tear his eyes away.

She took the cooler bag from his hands, plopping down on the blanket and opening it. He knelt down and shifted so that he sat cross-legged next to her.

"You made this?" Paige asked as she pulled out the sandwiches and chopped fruit.

 _"Yow! Owhoohoohoooo!"_

 _Tasha ran into the kitchen at the sound of the app's howling. "Spike! What are you doing?"_

 _The app glared at her as he sucked on the fingers of his left hand. "Nunfeen."_

 _"I can't understand you with your fingers in your mouth," Tasha chuckled. The look he gave her wiped the smile off of her face, and she went up to him. "Are you okay?"_

 _After a long moment, he pried his fingers out of his mouth and stared at them as they welled with blood. "I was trying to chop up an apple."_

 _"Here, I'll get you a band-aid." Within the minute she had reappeared, wrapping each finger with a band-aid to cover the cut that sliced across the top of them._

 _"I don't know what happened," Spike muttered bitterly. "Weapons are my expertise – I shouldn't have injured myself."_

 _"Apples are tough and slippery – you have to be careful and go slow when cutting them." Tasha looked up into his eyes. "Would you like some help, sweetie?"_

 _"Don't call me that," he snapped._

 _"I'm sorry. Would you like some help?"_

 _Spike looked down at his mutilated fingers. "I guess I'm going to have to need it now."_

"More or less," Spike shrugged. He wiggled his fingers absentmindedly.

"Should we talk more economics?" Paige asked before popping a strawberry into her mouth.

"I'd rather not," Spike grimaced. "That stuff is as boring as manners are."

Paige laughed. "You are so weird."

 _Who are you calling weird, princess?_ "That's not what I was going for."

"Don't worry, I like it."

"Do you like me?"

Paige sighed in annoyance. "Look, I keep telling you, we're just friends; that's all."

"Come on, why do you put up with me if you didn't like me like that?"

"Because we're _friends_. And besides, jocks aren't really my type."

"I'm everyone's type."

"Mmm, not really."

Spike took a bite of his sandwich, watching her pluck grapes off of a cluster she had grabbed. "Is your mom still suspicious?"

"Oh yeah, that's why she doesn't know about this. She doesn't trust me."

Spike snorted. "Are you kidding? She doesn't trust _me_."

"Yeah, you're right."

"I wouldn't trust me either."

Paige paused. "Why?"

"Because I do things like _this_." He reached across the picnic blanket, grabbing her sandwich and swiping it away from her.

"Hey!" She swatted at his hand before scrambling to her knees, trying to grab it back. She latched onto his arm, but he switched the sandwich to his other hand. She huffed in frustration and squeezed his arm, digging her nails into his skin.

"You're going to have to be tougher than that if you want the sandwich back," Spike laughed.

"I don't want to hurt you though."

"Sweetheart, you can't."

"Oh really?" Paige gave him a look. He knew that she was offended, and he gave her a snide smile. Suddenly, she dug harder and yanked his arm down, reaching for the sandwich with a freed hand.

"Whoa!" Spike yelped, rolling backwards and dragging her with him.

"Ha! I got the sandwich!" Paige gloated.

"And you're on top of me," Spike smirked.

She scowled at him, thumping his chest with her elbow before rolling off of him. Spike sat up with a wheeze.

"I'm not falling for that again, mister," Paige snapped, her arms crossed. Her squished sandwich was locked in her hand. "We're just friends."

"Just friends."

She took an angry bite out of her sandwich. Spike couldn't help smiling at how cute she was. An angry Paige was like an angry bunny. Spike hated bunnies, but Paige was an exception. She was always the exception.

"The spring dance is next week – will you go with me?" the app asked her.

"Only if we go as just friends. Nothing more," Paige said firmly.

"And nothing less."

She rolled her eyes, sinking into a more relaxed position. "Are you ready for your first home game since your failed one?"

Spike shot her a look before saying "The last few games have gotten me to the top of my game, so yeah, I am. You're still coming tonight?"

"Wouldn't miss it – between you and Nick, I wouldn't live to see tomorrow if I skipped out on it."

"True," Spike gestured with what was left of his sandwich before tossing it into his mouth.

"You're not supposed to agree with me on that," Paige laughed.

"I consider myself an honest person." He picked out an apple from the bag of chopped fruit, scowling at it before sticking it into his mouth. He looked around the rest of the park, listening to the breeze rattle through the leaves of the trees draping over them. The sky was a cloudy gray, but no less bright. There were few people walking around, giving the two teens some privacy.

Paige seemed to pick up on this thought process. "I'm really glad my family isn't here. My mom is so overprotective, and Nick is almost worse. And I'm the one who's older by two minutes."

"So you two really are twins."

"Yeah – anyways, I also have two younger sisters, who you already met. They're annoying; Lena thinks she's as old as Nick and I when she's only eleven, but she acts like Maggie, who's seven."

"What about your dad?"

"Oh." Paige picked an apple out of the bag of fruit and ate it. She reached in and grabbed a strawberry, studying it before she answered. "My dad's not around because he's… well, he's got cancer, the terminal kind. He won't make it much longer, and-" She stopped, blinking away tears. "Sorry, I'm fine." Her voice was watery. "I don't really talk about it. None of us do."

"I'm sorry," Spike said. He wasn't sure what he was supposed to do, so he just sat there awkwardly and waited for her to regain her composure.

Paige took deep breaths, swallowing. "I'm really sorry." She swallowed again. "Anyways, what about your family?"

Spike looked at her, and she waved for him to talk. He looked down and bit his teeth together for a moment. "My… dad is a billionaire, and he recently married a woman named Tasha. She and her son Leo joined our family. Adam Davenport and Bree Davenport are my blood-siblings."

"That's right, you're a Davenport."

"Yeah." Spike was relieved to see that she had recovered herself, though her eyes were still a little red.

"You don't hang around them much," Paige commented.

"Do I have to? You don't hang around Nick much."

"Touché."

When Spike sat in silence, Paige asked "What about your mom?"

The app shrugged. "I don't know anything about her. As far as I'm concerned, Tasha is my mom." _Lies, lies. As far as I'm concerned, none of them mean anything to me. I am not actually related to them save for this body. Lies, lies._

"I guess neither of us have a perfect family."

Spike scoffed. "Is there such a thing?"

"Probably not," Paige smiled. "That's what makes them special."

* * *

 **AN: And we're back from the intermission - was this chapter worth the wait? Well, I enjoyed writing it, anyways :)**

 **Oh, and Sapphire: There is a _Six Flags_ in California ;) No worries, thanks for being on your toes and keeping me on mine - I'd be in trouble as an author if I didn't do my research.**

 **Speaking of reviews, thank you everyone for all of them, as well as favorites and follows! Y'all are so amazing, and I love hearing from you guys - your thoughts always give me things to think about and make me a better writer.**

 **Speaking of making me think, your responses to my theory were _super_ interesting and made me reconsider mine. A revision to it: Maybe Chase would only pursue more powers and pretend to be evil to prove to the rest of his team that he's someone to contend with and that he deserves more respect - but as some of you have mentioned, with the way the episodes are coming now, that episode is not likely to come. And that's too bad - the writers are missing out on a phenomenal plotline.**

 **And YES, there should totally be a Spike episode for Elite Force :DDD**

 **Anyways, enough of my rambling. Stay tuned for Chapter 66!**


	66. Chapter 66

Spike hunched over his knees as he sat on the team bench. He slowly sucked the water out of his water bottle, chewing on the soft plastic nozzle. A fly flew around his head, and he swatted at it. He tried not to think about his last experience with flies.

The bench shook as someone sat down next to the app, and he looked out the corner of his eye to see who it was. Nick Irwin.

"You spent the afternoon with my sister?"

"She told you about it?"

"Didn't have to."

Spike stared straight ahead, studying a seagull that had lingered even after the rest of the flock had screeched away from the fields. It cocked its head with a tangible idiocy, and the app wanted nothing more than to scare it back on its way, to get it off of his field.

"What did you two do?"

"Do you know how romantic your sister is?"

The app smothered a smirk of amusement as Nick's hackles rose. "If you do anything to my sister-"

"She's about as romantic as a rock," Spike interrupted.

Nick's balloon of anger deflated with a whiny whistle. Spike focused his attention back on the dumb bird, imagining himself running up to it and kicking it into the air. That would get it out of there.

"You know, I don't care how romantic she is, she's hot," the bionic stated casually.

"What!"

"Not really, I guess, but I can't stop thinking about her."

"Dude, she's my sister."

"She's not mine, and that's all I care about."

"She's my _twin_. That's weird for me!"

"You know, now that you say that, I like you less," Spike said, chewing on the words. He glanced at Nick nonchalantly. "I don't like your face because it's hers as a boy's. I guess I'll just have to kill you, then." He stood, striding onto the field. Time to get that dang bird out of there.

"Hey hey, what now?!" Nick spluttered after a moment of letting Spike's statement sink in. He ran up to the app.

"Kidding, kidding," Spike waved him off. "Kind of."

"Dude." Nick stepped in front of Spike, stopping the app in his tracks. "You behave. This is my sister we're talking about, and if you hurt her, I will personally see to the end of you."

Spike flashed him a smile, slapping the older boy on the shoulder. "No worries. We're just friends, anyways." With that, Spike shouldered past him and walked out to his bird. It flew away before he could get within ten feet of it.

* * *

An hour and a half later, Spike found himself out on the pitch. Well, that was what Matic called it. Spike called it a field. _His_ rugby field.

Spike glanced over at the stands, picking out Paige right away. He was no longer worried about impressing her so that he could get her attention, but so that he could restore his pride. This was his time to shine, his time to prove to her that he was the best player on the field.

She would know it.

He turned his head forwards again, staring into the back of Ethan's head as the older boy shifted his balance so that he leaned forward. With the shrill _tweet!_ of the ref's whistle, Ethan exploded forward, winding up for an explosive kick. His foot swinging forward, it made contact with the ball just long enough to send it flying high, straight and true.

Another whistle blew and the crowd of twenty people in the stands cheered as the ball spun through the football goalposts. The Dingoes rugby team let out their own cheers and whoops; the foul on Ethan and his subsequent penalty kick point had tied the Dingoes with their opponents, the Fighting Spuds[16]. The hometown heroes were not about to lose to a team with a potato for their mascot.

The players lined back up, and the game began again. There were less than five minutes left in the game – the Dingoes had no wish to even tie the Spuds. It was win or die. Well, more like hide in shame.

Henry sent the ball flying over the other team, the Spuds getting underneath it and setting up their attack. The Dingoes rushed right off the bat, the offensive line[17] bowling over any of the other team's players who took possession of the ball. The defensive line, of which Spike was a part, hung back and danced into openings whenever possible.

Spike saw his chance when Noah dove on top of a Spud, who threw the ball up into the air for his teammate. Unfortunately for the Spud, Spike was there and snatched it midair, twisting around the incoming Spuds and his teammates alike. Leaping into open space, he dug his cleats into the grass and took off.

If Spike hadn't known better, he'd have thought that he had grown wings in those glorious moments. Pumping his arms and legs, his feet barely touched the ground and his breath filled his chest with power. Everything seemed slow in comparison to his flight, the field lights sparkling as his spotlight.

The thin white paint dotting the grass marked his arrival to safety, and he fast approached it. As he reached it, he let his training kick in and take over, sending himself flying forward and into the ground, slamming the ball to the grass. His hearing returned in time for him to hear the roar of his supporters and teammates, and it was sweet to his ears. The whistle commencing the game blew, and the app was tackled where he still sprawled. It didn't matter how much the pummeling of piling bodies hurt, the bionic loved every bit of the dog pile.

* * *

Spike had grabbed his stuff and was ambling to the stands with his teammates when Paige ran up to them, flashing grins to her brother and the app. "You did it – you pulled off the win!"

"Thanks to Spike," Carter clapped the app on the shoulder. There were a few whoops in agreement.

"You are a little speed devil," Paige acknowledged with an impressed smile. That was all Spike needed to hear, and he practically glowed with satisfaction.

After more comments, praise, and jokes tossed about in their group, Spike finally broke away. He was tired, and he was ready to leave the game in his memory as perfect as it was. He was taking his first steps from the group when someone caught his arm. He turned to see Paige standing there.

"You did great tonight – you really are the best player on the team. Don't tell Nick that I said that." She let go with a sly smile, and with a wave, she returned to the others. Spike couldn't help the idiotic grin that smothered his expression as he stared after her.

He turned back on his way and nearly ran into Bree with an "Ack!" of surprise. Stepping back, he saw that behind her was the rest of his family. "What are you doing here?"

"We wanted to see you play – you were great out there," Bree answered with her own grin.

"Yeah, I was actually proud to call you my brother," Adam joked.

"I thought it would look more awkward, but you almost fit in," Leo added teasingly.

Spike huffed a sigh. "Thanks for coming, but you can scram now."

"You don't want to go out to dinner?" Tasha asked.

"Enjoy it while it's offered," Mr. Davenport advised through his teeth as he tried to hide a smirk.

"Donald!" Tasha slapped his arm. "My cooking is not that bad!"

Spike flashed a smirk of his own. "Dinner sounds great."

* * *

[16] There is not actually a team of Fighting Spuds in California (that the author knows of), but several other teams of Fighting Spuds exist elsewhere in the United States of America. The author has no intention of ridiculing any Fighting Spuds in the audience.

[17] In the game of rugby, the defensive line is the line that actually does the offensive work, and is shielded behind the line of offensive players who act as blockades with their sheer size and strength. The author recommends doing research if confusion persists.

* * *

 **AN: Fun fact: Asori struggles to write sport scenes. Not cuz they're overly difficult, but because they are too easily boooooring. It's hard making these interesting. These always hold up my progress anywhere from a week to five weeks T_T**

 **I hope you enjoyed reading this :S**

 **Thank you everyone for all of the support - every follow, favorite, and review means a ton and you're all awesome :)**

 **Stay tuned for Chapter 67!**


	67. Chapter 67

"So, is there something between you and Paige Irwin?"

Spike caught the rugby ball he'd been tossing to himself while sprawling on the couch, his eyes meeting Bree's between his feet. "What?"

"She was talking to you last night, and you two seemed pretty comfortable."

"So what if I was?"

Bree broke into a smile. "She's so much better than Kenzi – I actually approve this time."

"You were trying to help with Kenzi."

"That doesn't mean I really cared for her. Paige is cool and super nice."

Spike grunted, shifting his gaze back to his rugby ball.

"I'm just confused that you like her; she doesn't seem to be your type."

He glared at her.

Bree put her hands up. "Hey, it's not a bad thing."

"Get lost before I make your arm hair into a rug," Spike grumbled, tossing his ball up again.

"Why? You're not doing anything and neither am I." Bree gestured to how he was laid out on the couch. "We can talk."

"No, Matic is coming. I'm waiting."

Bree's eyebrows rose. "A girlfriend _and_ friends – Spike, I'm impressed."

"Don't be," he snarled, pausing in his little game of toss. "And she's not my girlfriend."

Bree shrugged. "Fine. I'll leave you to your life. My word of advice, though: you might want to get out of the house before whatever Adam and Leo are doing in the lab explodes." With that she turned on her heel and stepped up to the front door. She stopped and turned back to Spike. "Matic is actually pretty cute – is he single?"

"Scram!" Spike bellowed.

Bree smirked, slipping out the door.

"Argh," Spike groaned, catching the ball and pinning it to his face. Sometimes he really despised that girl.

It wasn't long before knocking on the door shook the air. Spike huffed a breath and rolled off the couch. After arriving at the door, he opened it to find Matic, as he'd expected.

" 'S'up, Matic," Spike greeted his captain casually, opening the door wider to let his friend in. Matic only nodded, setting a couple skateboards against the wall.

"Video games again?" Matic asked. "I did bring skateboards if we want to do that too."

Spike opened his mouth to respond when he heard a crash from the lab even as many floors up as they were. "You know what? Let's just start with skateboarding." The app had hoped that Bree had only been joking, but…. He shoved his friend back out the door, grabbing the boards as he did so.

"What was that noise?" Matic asked.

"I don't know and I don't want to find out," Spike answered brusquely. "Where do you want to go to do this?"

"Just the road, or something. A warning: I'm not very good. I just learned it from Jem a few weeks before. He let me use the boards."

"I've never done it," Spike shrugged.

"This will be… interesting, then."

Spike nodded, dropping the boards to the cement. One clattered on its back while the other hopped and rolled at an angle. Matic caught it with his foot.

"So you just stand on it and roll?" Spike asked.

"Yes," Matic shrugged, stepping on his. "Watch." The older boy kicked off, steering the board by shifting his weight.

Spike flipped his board over and climbed on, sliding it forward with his foot. He wobbled a little but used his arms to steady himself. "This isn't so hard."

Matic circled around and rolled back until he reached Spike, arcing around the bionic so that they rode side by side. "Let's go to the road and ride around." He took off at a faster pace, and Spike followed. He was still getting used to how his foot would touch down, trying to keep from losing momentum and balance. It was becoming easier and easier for the app.

They turned off of the Davenport driveway and onto the tar, the hard wheels rattling on the black pavement. Matic steered towards the slight slope that would take them down from the hill that the mansion crowned. He began zig-zagging, and as Spike began picking up speed, he realized why and attempted to mimic the older boy's strategy. The first couple turns were rough with an exclamation of a curse or two, but the app quickly figured it out. When he did, he couldn't hide his smile of satisfaction.

"You can do it?" Matic called back with a smirk.

"Better than you," Spike shot hotly.

"You skateboard almost as good as you play rugby," the Slovene joked.

"Ha," Spike grunted. The two of them ground to a stop as a car climbed up the road, followed by another behind it. When they had passed, Matic started his decent again, and Spike followed suit.

"You played good last night," Matic commented over his shoulder.

"Thanks – it was fun," Spike replied. "I like running like that."

"No one can catch you."

"Nope."

"Is your brother fast like you?"

"Which one? And why do you care?"

"The big one who came to practices. I don't know the other one."

"Why do you care?"

"Because I have to go home in a couple weeks."

Spike was propelling himself forward as Matic had said this, and the app's foot caught on his board. He tumbled to the ground, rolling across the tar a couple times before he came to a stop. Matic skidded to a halt, kicking his board back as he jogged up to Spike.

"Are you okay?" the Slovene asked, proffering a hand.

"Fine," Spike growled, helping himself up. Matic frowned. The two got back on their boards and continued rolling along the road.

"You're not talking about Jem's house, are you?" Spike sulked after a long moment of silence.

Matic laughed, saying "No, my real home, my home in Slovenia. I can't stay here forever."

"Don't you have to graduate first?" Spike asked. He didn't know much about exchange students, but he knew that.

"Yes – something came up at home, so I'm graduating early."

"It's not serious, is it?"

"No, no, just academic stuff."

Spike scowled. "Fail or something, then."

Matic glanced back at the younger boy with a pleasantly surprised smile. "You don't want me to go."

"Well, we need you for playoffs – they start in a couple weeks."

Matic saw through the excuse. "You have my number, and we could Skype™ call if you wanted sometime. We can still be friends even though I'm leaving."

Spike shook his head, scowling at the tar whizzing past him. It just wouldn't be the same.

"I thought you didn't like me until we started hanging out," Matic commented.

"You're annoying," Spike said simply. Matic laughed at that.

The two of them rolled out of the neighborhood area and into town, weaving on the sidewalk. They both took it fairly slow, considering they were new to the activity.

"Do you want to go back?" Spike asked without warning.

"To your house?"

"No, I'm not talking about that."

"Oh, to Slovenia? Ja, I do. It's home, it's where my heart is. Just like Mission Creek will always be your home. I will miss you guys, though." Matic threw the app another glance.

Time seemed to slow for Spike. The sunlight trickling through the small buildings of Main Street painted the trees and Matic's hair equally golden, the older boy's eyes flashing in the light as they met Spike's. The app's chest clenched at the thought of losing this friend; he had been the one to give Spike a chance – more than one. He had given him something to care about and people to care about it with him. Because of Matic, Spike had a life he cared about.

And now Matic was about to become just a memory.

Anger welled within Spike.

 _No._


	68. Chapter 68

Spike straightened his bright blue tie, his gaze flicking over his appearance over and over again. He rolled his shoulders to shift the stiff black dress shirt into a more natural position, running his fingers through his slicked-back hair. The hair gel hadn't quite hardened yet.

"You look nice," Spike heard from behind him. He glanced in the mirror to see that it was Leo, fixing his short black hair that really couldn't be fixed. "Too bad you don't look as awesome as me," the younger boy continued.

"Depends if you consider being a fruit fly to be awesome," Spike retorted, but his tone made it clear how distracted he was. He smoothed out a couple of wrinkles in his black dress pants. He was dressing to impress, and it had to be perfect.

"I'm no fruit fly tonight – I'm a tiger. Janelle won't be able to see, she'll be so blinded by my awesome glow."

"Keep telling yourself that."

"Says the guy without a date."

Spike spun on the boy. "I do, and she's better than yours."

"Right," Leo scoffed.

The app's eyes narrowed. "You'll see for yourself."

"I look forward to it," Leo said smugly. "Anyways, Adam and Bree are waiting for us out in the living room."

The two boys exited the bathroom and joined their siblings, all of them looking each other over. Adam was wearing a slightly-crinkled purple dress shirt without a tie and tan dress pants – he was the sloppiest of the Davenport-Dooley boys. Leo was the flashiest with his silver jacket and sunglasses, and Spike was the classiest. The app wouldn't have seen himself as being so, but he had a girl to win the heart of.

Bree wore a flowered yellow sun dress that swirled around her knees. Her earrings and matching necklace sparkled almost as much as her eyes did. Spike thought that she actually looked kind of pretty.

"We'd better hurry so that you aren't late picking up Janelle," Bree said to Leo.

"We're fine," Leo shrugged, checking his watch. His eyes bugged out when he saw the time. "Okay, no we're not – we have to go!"

"You have to pick up your date?" Spike asked.

"Yeah, we can probably pick up your imaginary girlfriend on the way," Leo dug as he scurried to the front door, the bionics in tow.

Spike faltered. "Dang it, I didn't know I was supposed to pick her up – we didn't even talk about it."

"Because you don't have a date," Leo called back to them. He climbed in the car, and the bionics were close behind. Adam took the wheel, pulling out of the driveway.

Bree looked over her shoulder from her seat in the front on the passenger side to meet Spike's eyes. "Bad move on your part, but if you didn't talk about it, you might be fine."

Spike groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. He was actually worried about this, and anything that wasn't right snipped a chord of patience and calm.

When the car pulled up to Janelle's house, Leo slid over to crowd Spike so that Janelle would fit beside him. Janelle didn't seem happy at how squished the car felt when she took her seat, but she didn't say anything. Leo just awkwardly waved hello to her. Spike scowled out the window.

It wasn't long before the car pulled into the almost-full Mission Creek High parking lot. Adam parked near the back, and the five of them climbed out.

As they were walking, Bree sidled up to Spike. "Hey, don't worry about it. You look great, and she'll think so. If you two aren't officially dating, it's probably fine that you didn't pick her up."

Spike puffed his breath out of his nose. After a moment of silence, he asked "Are you going with anyone?"

"No," she sighed. "I still haven't found a guy to date me since Owen."

"Who?"

"Adam and I made the popcorn sculpture for him."

Spike smiled. "That kid. I enjoyed destroying that thing."

"I enjoyed watching you destroy it," Bree nudged him with a laugh. They walked through the doors, and she said "Alright, time to dance. Go find Paige and have fun. And don't destroy anything."

"I won't," he smirked, pulling away from her. He entered the gym, where the lights were low and the bodies close and warm. Spring-themed lights danced over the dancers, painting the walls and floors like flower-puke. Romantic.

After scanning over the room, Spike determined that his date wasn't there yet, so he found an empty table and plopped down at it to wait. His eyes darted over the kids and his mind followed the contour of the music, but his foot tapped its own rhythm of stress.

His heart jumped when the double doors peeked open and the most beautiful girl slipped into the room. She wore a shimmery blue dress and her hair was piled on her head – it was as if Spike was seeing her for the first time all over again.

He stood and seemed to float right to her. "Paige," he breathed.

"Hi Spike," she smiled.

"Sorry I didn't pick you up, you're beautiful," the words spilled out of the app's mouth.

"It's o- wait, what?"

Spike rubbed the back of his neck with his left hand and offered her his right. "Can I have this dance?"

"It's in the middle of a song," Paige laughed.

"Oh, what?" Spike spluttered.

She shook her head. "It's okay – come on, let's go." She took his hand and led him to the dance floor. It was a somewhat upbeat song that was popular at the time, and Paige swung his arms around, stepping in time to the beat and singing the melodies with her sweet voice. Spike did his best to follow along, but he was content just watching her swish her dress, listening to her voice rise and swoop with the song.

The next song came on, and the next after that. If Paige hadn't been relaxed to start the night, she was growing more relaxed with every song, putting Spike at ease and in turn making the night more and more enjoyable for him.

He loved how free she was with her smiles, how often she laughed with him, for him. The 'just friends' were growing closer, and Spike could feel it. It filled him with excitement and… happiness. He couldn't describe it any other way than as a warm ball of fire in his chest that sunk into his stomach and reached up into his smile. He smiled a lot that night.

As they spun out of a fast song into a slow song, Spike pulled Paige into himself, holding her close. "Doesn't this feel nice?" he whispered into her ear.

"Mmmm, feels like I need to make a run to the ladies' room," Paige hummed, pulling away. He threw her a look, and she shrugged with a sly smile. After glancing around, she said "Your sister has been sitting alone almost this whole time. Why don't you dance with her while I'm gone?"

"What? No way," Spike snorted. He let her drag him over to where Bree sat.

Bree broke into a grin when she saw the two of them. "Cute! You two match!"

Paige blushed, and Spike groaned.

"I'm going to take a quick break from dancing, and so Spike said he'd take you out to the dance floor," Paige said.

"What? No I didn't," Spike argued.

"Really?" Bree asked, her eyebrows flying high.

Paige shot Spike a look as she walked off. The app watched her disappear behind the double doors of the gym.

"Well, are you going to take me dancing?" Bree asked with a small smile of amusement.

"No," Spike scoffed, putting his hands on the table and leaning against it. "Where are Adam and Leo?"

"Leo's out there with Janelle – they haven't stopped dancing yet, but I have a feeling that Janelle will force a break soon. Adam was asked to dance a little while ago, and I haven't seen him since."

Spike simply nodded, looking around the tables. Most were empty, but a few seated couples and/or groups of friends. All were home to forgotten cups of punch.

Bree stood up, grabbing Spike's arm and pulling him away from the table. "Thank you, kind sir, for having this dance with me."

"I'm not dancing with you," he sputtered.

"Why yes you are, you asked me." She grabbed his other arm as they made it to the dance floor, pulling him through the song.

"Ughhh," he moaned, throwing his head back. Bree laughed at him.

When Paige wasn't coming back any time too soon, Spike begrudgingly gave in to his sister, allowing himself to actually get into the dancing. While he wasn't a phenomenal dancer, he was good enough to be better than most of the other guys in that gymnasium – he was coordinated and knew how to move his body to the music.

"You and Paige are getting along great," Bree commented.

"Hm."

She spun under his arm. "And you're actually a pretty good dancer."

"It's not that hard."

"Hm."

A slow song came on, and Spike stopped. "I am not taking you through this one."

"Come on, not for your sister?"

" _Especially_ my sister."

"You big ol' lame-o."

Spike gave her a look. She pulled him into the rhythm anyways, swaying with him.

"You know, this should make you very uncomfortable," Spike murmured in her ear.

"And why's that?"

"You think of me as a brother, right?"

Bree stared straight ahead over his shoulder.

The app's voice dropped even lower into a soft hiss. "I don't feel like that. I don't feel like a son, or a nephew, or a cousin, or even a brother. As far as I'm concerned, I'm not related to any of you. My body is your brother. Me? Not so much. Isn't that strange?"

"Stop it." Bree's fingers dug into his shoulder. "Stop talking."

"See? Now you're uncomfortable."

"You're my brother, no matter what you say."

"Relax, princess. I wouldn't date you in a million years after what I've already seen."

"What have you seen?"

"A complete pain in the rear. Really, it's not cute."

Despite how awkward the conversation had become, Bree couldn't stop the laugh that escaped her. Spike's eyebrows rose in confusion at her reaction, but he didn't say anything.

The two of them stepped through the rest of the song, and when it ended, Spike scouted the teens for his date. Relief washed through him when he found her, and he promptly let go of Bree.

"Paige is back, so get lost," he smirked at the older bionic.

"It was nice dancing with you too, Spike," Bree sighed with a small smile. She wove through the dancers towards the punch, and Spike slid over to where Paige stood.

"You and your sister are both good dancers – did she teach you?" Paige asked him when he sidled up to her.

"Nope," he replied brusquely.

"Thanks for doing that – I know what it's like to be the one without a date. Nick's always been kind and danced with me."

Spike blew out his breath, running his hand over his head. He wished he were wearing his hat.

"Come on, let's get back out there," Paige grinned, taking his hand and leading him close to the thick of people. She began twisting and shaking to the peppy music, and Spike picked up his own moves to complement hers. Several songs passed before another slow one came, and Spike held out his hands. She took them.

The app pulled her close to himself, breathing through her sweet perfume. The stray curls bouncing from her hairdo tickled his cheek and her silky dress rustled under his fingers. She was fluid, and he matched her style. He was pleased when she laid her chin on his shoulder.

"I'm glad you're not very tall like a lot of guys are – it would make dancing with you a lot harder," she said softly.

"I'm glad you're not taller than me," Spike replied.

"I might be with heels."

"Then I'll break them. I'm not going to let my girl be taller than me."

She pulled back a little so that she could look him in the eye. "Your girl?"

Spike rubbed her back. "Come on, why aren't we more than friends yet?" His fingers tickled her neck, but she didn't move away.

"It's only been a few weeks of just knowing each other." Her eyes looked into his, searching them.

"These weeks with you have been the best."

A small smile touched her lips. "Then why aren't we?"

A large smile broke out on the app's face, and Paige's grew to match his. He pulled her back to himself, and any stiffness between them was gone.

As the song was closing, Spike guided her to a kiss, but she brought her fingers up between their lips. "Nuh uh, not yet."

"Come on," Spike breathed, trying to move her fingers with his nose.

"No Spike. I'm not ready for that, but I'll let you know."

The song melted into a fast paced jump song, and Spike stepped back. Irritation played across his expression.

"Patience," Paige said with an uncomfortable smile and a small shrug. "Let's dance and worry about it later."

"You ruined the moment," Spike grumbled.

Paige forced a laugh. "Um, I'm going to go get some punch, and we can dance more after." She whirled around, disappearing through the horde of teenagers.

Spike blew out his breath through his lax lips, running his fingers through his hair. He'd been doing that a lot that night. Someone bumped into him, and he turned to see that it was Leo.

"Smooth," the younger boy snickered.

"Shut up," Spike grumbled.

* * *

 **AN: So yeah, a little time-skip and a school dance - whatcha think? (Did Spike just get a girlfriend? What?)**

 **That sly little commando application.**

 **(By the way, he thoroughly ruined my vision for his dance with Bree; leave it to him to ruin a moment - or two.)**

 **Anyways, thank you to all of you who have supported this story in any way, shape, or form - your favorites, follows, and reviews are always just perfectly wonderful, and I love ya all :)**

 **Welp, stay tuned for Chapter 69!**


	69. Chapter 69

**Warning: Graphic war story just ahead. Reader should exert caution if uncomfortable with such content.**

* * *

"Days later, after walking through rice fields, wading through leech-infested rivers and streams, and running out of rations, I realized that it was my nineteenth birthday[18]." Mr. Hoffman's eyes glinted at the boy sitting before him. "When you're in the action of war, you forget things like that. Anyways, when we stopped for a break along the trail, I was given a can of peaches a guy had received from home. That was a big deal, and the peaches were good."

"Peaches." Spike studied the wizened teacher. He still struggled to wrap his head around the fact that anything so trivial could mean so much to anyone.

"Minutes later we were walking down the trail again, looking for VC," Mr. Hoffman continued. "I was positioned as third man in the patrol behind the point man. As we walked, I suddenly heard a terrific explosion behind me. I turned and saw a young Marine on the ground, screaming in pain. His entire right leg was missing as dark red blood squirted from an ugly stump. Blood seemed to be everywhere. Then the reality of the situation hit me like a ton of bricks; I had stepped directly over the landmine set by the VC that had blown up my screaming comrade. He hadn't been so lucky."

Spike let out a low whistle.

"Are you sure you want to join the military, kid?" the teacher asked. "Don't get me wrong, defending our country is a noble career. But you never know what you're going to be pulled into. You never know what Hell you're going to walk through."

Spike bit the inside of his cheek, maintaining his silence. Sometimes he did rethink his conviction, like when he heard Mr. Hoffman's stories. But the thrill of the fight, the glory it would entail – it gripped him. He wanted that.

But even if it cost him a limb? More than one?

His life?

He didn't know. He didn't know if anything was worth that.

Well, he had almost died for Adam. He hadn't thought twice about it, and it hadn't bothered him in the moment.

So maybe the military _would_ suit him. Self-preservation wasn't an issue when he didn't have time to think about it.

But thinking about that bullet ripping through him… he still shied away from the memory of that pain. He didn't know if he'd be able to handle being shot again.

The likelihood of being shot – or worse – in a skirmish, especially as a Marine, was too high for Spike's comfort.

"I think that's enough of my stories for today," Mr. Hoffman said upon reading Spike's expressions.

"What?" Spike blinked.

"Go home, son. Enjoy the sunshine, your friends, and your family. That's enough of this dark war business for one day." He got up, and Spike followed suit. "You're a good kid, Spike. You've got a lot going for you, so make your choices wisely. Don't give your life for the wrong reasons."

Spike nodded. "Thanks."

"Thank you," Mr. Hoffman said, his eyes twinkling. "Thank you for giving this old man company, especially in his dark memories. I always enjoy when you come in after school."

"I didn't have rugby practice today," Spike shrugged. "I'm glad I could come again."

Mr. Hoffman stuck out his hand, and Spike gave it a good, firm shake. The teacher smiled at him. "Go on, go live your life. Give yourself stories to tell in the future."

"Will do," Spike said with a small smile of his own. He turned and left his calculus teacher behind in his room, in the high school of Mission Creek. The walk home was quiet but equally pleasant. The sun kept peeking out from small puffs of cloud, and the light breeze cooled the warm air. Perfect for the playoff rugby game that would be later that night.

As the app entered into the Davenport mansion, Mr. Davenport himself looked up from his desk, which he'd been scrambling through. "Spike! Good, you're back!"

Spike frowned, kicking the door shut behind him. "What? What's going on?"

"I need you and your older siblings to go on a mission – one of my rival companies compromised our database containing my plans for future releases of my inventions. We don't have hard proof that they did it, so that's why I need you, Adam, and Bree to make a copy of their hard drive."

"A mission. You're sending me on a mission." Spike's eyebrows rose.

"Yes," Mr. Davenport bit out. "I need your super intelligence in order for this job to be done. This is a _stealth_ mission – and Bree's going to be mission leader."

"No guns?"

"You probably won't even run into anyone – if you do your job right. No violence."

Spike's lip lifted in disgust. "That's no fun."

"Missions aren't meant to be fun, they're meant to help people and get a job done. Now go suit up before I change my mind about sending you."

"It wouldn't be a waste of my time if you kept me back," Spike grumbled, making his way to the elevator that would take him to the lab below. When he stepped out, he was met with the sight of Adam and Bree waiting around in their mission suits, chatting with Leo.

"Finally, you're here – these mission suits get hot," Adam greeted the app.

"Where were you?" Bree asked. "It's been over an hour since school was out, and you said you didn't have practice today."

"It's not your business," Spike snapped, stepping into his capsule. He was dressed in mere moments.

"At least today's mission isn't running on a clock – if it was, you wouldn't have been able to help us because we couldn't have found you since you keep your GPS off," Bree replied. Her tone was sharp.

"And that's the way I like it," Spike retorted. "I don't want the rest of you to be able to pester me."

"He's got a point," Leo shrugged. "I'd totally pester him."

Bree shot the youngest a glare.

"Guys, I don't want us fighting again," Adam broke in. "Let's just go."

Leo leaned back in his swivel chair. "I say that Adam should be mission leader just for that."

Bree rolled her eyes with an angry huff. "We're going guys." She grabbed onto Adam and Spike, speeding them off to the coordinates Mr. Davenport had sent her earlier.

They arrived in a suburban area with houses on their side of the street and businesses on the other side. Bree pointed to a large building that was wider than it was tall and surrounded by a brick wall. "That's our target."

"How do we get in?" Spike asked, glancing at the people who were giving them sideways glances.

"You tell us, Brains," Bree replied.

He shot her a look. "Let's start by getting out of plain sight. This is stealth, isn't it?"

Bree studied him. "Yeah, it is. But I brought us over here so that we weren't in view of the security cameras."

"Right."

When the two of them fell into silence, Adam piped up. "Just tell me when you want me to hit something." He brightened. "I could start by hitting Chase!"

"I'm not Chase, you buffoon," Spike snarled, stopping Adam's fist with mere words before the oldest had even fully cocked it back.

"Oh yeah," Adam sighed. "I forget a lot."

Bree looked away.

Spike scowled. "We're going to go in through the front – there will be less security cameras that way."

"Really?" Bree asked, turning back to him. The app's words had focused her and Adam again.

"Spike's right," Mr. Davenport said over the com. "The back is where they take deliveries, but the front has more people watching, so less cameras."

"The front sounds worse then, actually," Bree said. "If we could block out the cameras, then the back wouldn't be a problem."

There was a pause. "If Spike used his telekinesis to block the cameras or at least move their view in another direction, you three could get in unseen."

"Let's do that," Bree decided.

But Spike gave her a hard look. "No, we're not doing that. You can just speed us through the front – no one will see us."

"They'll know something's up, and what cameras there are will still catch us – they could just slow down the tapes," Bree argued.

"Bree's right, Spike," Mr. Davenport said. "Bree, take the three of you around to the back of the building and go in that way."

Before Spike could object, Bree whizzed them around to the back of the building, behind a dumpster where the camera couldn't catch them. "Redirect the cameras, Spike. Point them up in the sky where they can't pick us up," Bree commanded.

Spike gritted his teeth. "I can't."

"Yes you can – you have that tele-thing ability," Adam said.

Spike glared at him. "No, I can't."

"Spike, yes, you can," Bree said firmly, but her tone contained evident concern. "Is there something wrong?"

"Nothing, except for the last time I used it, Chase came back and almost forced me out," Spike snapped.

"What?" Bree gasped.

"I thought you said that Chase was dead." Adam's eyes were wide with a torrent of emotions.

"This was, like a month ago, or more; this was before I killed Chase. Before I killed Chase…." Spike smacked his forehead. "Gosh, I'm dumb. He's dead, so it's not a problem. Okay, I can use the telekinesis."

Both Adam and Bree were pale, and neither said anything to the app. He glowered at them. "Oh, get over it."

"You didn't tell us that Chase fought to come back more than once…" Adam said breathlessly.

"So what if he did? It didn't change the fact that I won in the end." Spike turned back to the camera, focusing his attention on it. He began guiding it, twisting its metal support so that it turned upwards. The hair on the back of his neck prickled, and he paused. He whipped around to face his siblings. "Stop staring at me like that – he's dead, so it doesn't matter – _get over it_."

He turned back to face the camera, but he didn't miss Bree's whisper. "You monster."

His fist closed, and the camera's support snapped in half, the camera tumbling to the tar with a _crack!_ More crunching broke the quiet as it rolled.

"Great, now they'll be on to us," Spike growled. "We need to move fast if we're going to make it out of here before we get arrested." He stood and jogged to the door, examining the keypad. Glancing back, he saw that Adam and Bree still sat where they were. "Come on!" he hissed.

He returned his attention back to the keypad and scanned it for fingerprints. Analyzing the pad and then taking in account the keys that were pressed most often, his intelligence compiled a short list of possible combinations. The second try was the charm, and the door clicked open.

Spike peered in through the crack, locating the cameras that lined the hallways. He telekinetically turned all that were within sight up to the ceiling before opening the door wider, slipping inside. He wasn't as irritated when he looked back to see that Adam and Bree were following behind him.

"Davenport, we're in. Where are we going now?" Spike hissed into his com.

There was a long moment of silence before a response crackled. "Find the elevator, go to the top floor, and find the CEO's office from there." The mogul's voice was terse, and Spike realized that he'd probably heard the previous conversation. Leo too.

 _Great, now they all hate me,_ Spike grumbled to himself. _I was just starting to be okay with them._ He ignored the sting of hurt he'd grown so used to before. But he hadn't felt it for a while, so it was fresh again. That irked him.

The app looked down each hallway they passed, hoping to glance an elevator. He didn't feel like asking Mr. Davenport for anymore instruction, and he had a feeling that at this point, the billionaire didn't want to give it.

Finally Spike found the metal frame and solid doors of the elevators, and he cleared the hallway of the security cameras before the bionics entered. He was glad that the cameras were the old-school kind – the new ones wouldn't have been able to be redirected; he'd have had to destroy them.

They, surprisingly enough, hadn't run into anyone in the hallways at that point, so it threw off the app when a man appeared behind the opening doors of the elevator. He was about to step off with he saw the bionics and froze in place, his mouth opening in confusion.

Spike didn't give the man the chance to react before he'd leapt forward and slammed the man's bald head against the elevator wall. Dragging the unconscious man out of the elevator and dumping him to the side, he turned to Adam and Bree. "Come on, let's go."

Adam glanced down at the man's face, a trickle of blood tracing its way down his leathery skin. The oldest bionic wished that they hadn't run into him and that Spike wasn't so violent. But what he wished most of all was that his younger brother – his _real_ younger brother – had been the one to win the fight.

Chase had _fought_.

But Spike had destroyed him. Just like he destroyed everything.

Adam's fists clenched tight. Bree picked up on this, and she looked up into Adam's struggling facial features. Her eyes filled with tears, but she blinked them back. She refused to cry anymore, especially on a mission.

Using his telekinesis, Spike kept the doors jammed shut during their ride, and after many tense moments, they arrived at their floor. Peeking out of the elevator, Spike turned away all of the cameras and snuck out of the elevator, Adam and Bree close behind. The three of them sidled up to the CEO's office, Spike training his super hearing to the inside of the office.

"Why are there so few people here?" Bree whispered into the com.

"It's after hours – usually only the higher-level employees and management stick around, and they're working in their offices," Mr. Davenport answered.

"I bet the CEO is in there-" Bree began.

"He is," Spike muttered.

"So I'll use my vocal manipulation to draw him out," Bree suggested.

"No, he's sleeping. We'll just sneak in and do what we need to."

"And risk waking him up? No way."

"I can do it. You and Adam stand guard."

"What? No, Spike! Stop!"

He didn't pay her any mind, slipping into the office. The graying man inside lay slumped in his chair, his wire-rimmed glasses skewed. Drool trickled out of the corner of his mouth, and when Spike saw this, he forced back his snicker.

The app padded around the back of the desk, reaching across the desk to plug in Mr. Davenport's hard drive. After a series of quick and lightly-pressed commands typed in, the download began. Spike turned down all the speakers and muted the computer to make sure any alerts wouldn't disturb the man.

While he waited, Spike looked around the office. It wasn't terribly large, and it was sparsely furnished. A painting of a pheasant-hunting exhibition decorated the left wall.

The app allowed himself to start pacing, careful to step lightly and to not scrape his boots on the carpet. His thoughts took off.

The others were really upset by what he'd foolishly told them. This was why he hadn't told them before, but he'd figured that by then they would've been over it. Apparently not.

 _Why is it such a big deal to them?_ the app wondered. _It doesn't change anything._

 _If I told them that it happened more than once before I finally killed him…._

Spike let his breath out, clenching his teeth. A snort from the man brought the app back to attention to the mission on hand, and after a jittery confirmation that the CEO was still asleep, the app checked the computer's progress.

 _Not yet._

Maybe he should just leave the Davenport-Dooley's now. Strike it out on his own. He'd thought that time would let the emotion blow over and eventually disappear, but this was proof that his family wasn't over it – and they never would be. He'd never be one of them.

What confused him was that they'd all seemed to be making an effort to care about him – Bree had even gone so far as to tell him that she loved him the same as Chase – but now the app knew that it was a lie. None of them wanted him around if it meant that Chase was gone.

 _Even when you're dead, Chase, you still manage to take everything away from me._

Spike checked the download again, and he was relieved to see that it had finished. As he extracted one of the cords, it _popped_ out of the jack.

The app froze, watching the CEO shift. His eyes remained closed.

Spike pulled out the other, and it made a soft _click!_ that seemed far too loud.

The man mumbled in his sleep before physically sinking further into his chair and into his dreaming. Spike let out his breath and backed away, slipping out the door.

He turned around to tell Adam and Bree that he'd gotten it when he saw that they were nowhere in sight. Anger boiled in his stomach. _They ditched me! Those nattering numbskulls ditched me!_

He let out a small growl of frustration, sneaking back down to the level they had started from, padding back to the exit. He slid out and looked around, seeing that they weren't there. Activating his GPS signal, he saw that they were back at the Davenport mansion a few miles away.

 _Great. Just great._

* * *

[18] Mr. Hoffman's military experience is based very closely on the real experience of Vietnam veteran Steven J. Hunt of the United States of America, as recorded in _Vietnam: Our Story One On One_ compiled by Gary D. Gullickson. Some of the dialogue is almost directly quoted from excerpts of the book.

* * *

 **AN: So, um, yeah. Not my best mission scene ever (I _might_ have been scraping the bottom of the barrel...), but I hope it's passable. I'll own up to it anyway.**

 **Well, anyhow, this does change things for our main character - your thoughts? (You can never think too much about this story ;D If you do, I'm doing my job!) Let me know in a review. Oh, and follows and favorites are cool too - every one means so much, so thanks peeps! Y'all are great :)**

 **Keep your eyes open for Chapter 70!**


	70. Chapter 70

"Hey, pretty bird."

Paige shut her locker to see Spike standing there, his shoulder resting against the locker next to hers. "Hey Spike," she smiled.

"Want to hang out when I get done with practice today?"

"Don't you have Matic's farewell party?"

He frowned. "Oh yeah. Never mind then."

"Oh Spike," she chuckled.

But Spike wasn't smiling. He wasn't goofing around like he did just for her. His expression was stone-cold.

"Spike, is everything alright?" Paige asked.

"Of course."

"You seem a little… off."

"Do I? Do I really?" he snapped.

"Whoa, uh, okay. Sorry I care." She swung her backpack over her shoulder and turned, but Spike's "Wait," stopped her. She faced him.

He was pinching the bridge of his nose. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to snap."

"Something's bugging you," Paige said. "Can we talk about it?"

"No. Just these last few days… no."

"Really, I'm here to listen to you – that's what we do for each other in a relationship."

"Paige…" Spike shook his head. "Look, I have to get to rugby practice. I'll see you later." He turned from her, keeping up the façade of calm as he walked to the boys' locker room. He could feel her eyes boring into his back until he turned down a hallway out of her sight.

Ten minutes later he was arriving at the fields where most of his teammates were already milling around. Many of them flocked around Matic.

Spike set his stuff down on the outskirts of the pile and plopped down in the grass, keeping to himself. He must have had a cloud so dark hanging around him that the other guys kept their distance. Or maybe they just didn't notice. Or they didn't care enough to notice.

It wasn't long before Matic called the start of practice, and all the boys gathered around him.

"Zdravo, friends," Matic began. "You all know that the playoff game this last Tuesday was my last rugby game with you guys here in America."

 _By the time Spike had made it back to the mansion, he was furious with Adam and Bree. Not to mention that neither Mr. Davenport nor Leo had tried to help him either. The app had had to run the full six miles, and he was short of breath by the time he'd gotten to his destination. He had to quick throw on his rugby uniform and run to the Mission Creek fields. He almost didn't make it in time._

 _Not to mention that he was fully winded by the time he got there. To make things worse, he had to play the game knowing that it was Matic's last after the Slovene had made it so clear. To say the least, it had not been the app's best game._

 _Even though they'd won. They were moving on._

 _To say the least, he'd been out of sorts since then. And he couldn't quite figure out why._

"Today, right now, is my last practice with you guys."

 _It had been hard enough when Spike had found out two weeks ago. It was harder during the last game. And it only got harder during the practice on Wednesday. He had been sure that Thursday would be a nightmare._

And he was right.

Not that the practice was bad – they ran a couple of practical drills, but then had fun with games for the remainder of the afternoon. A seemingly perfect practice.

No, the problem was with _him_.

"You are all invited to my farewell party after practice. There will be food, and games, and music, and people. You should all be there."

Some party.

No, the party was great in its own right; hamburgers, Frisbee, beanbag toss, Linkin Park. The team. A bonfire, a beautiful sunset.

Spike had a hard time enjoying it. No, he didn't cry. If anyone expected him to cry, they'd be insane. Commando applications don't cry.

But he was angry. And what probably made it worse was that Matic didn't cry. Not that Spike wanted him to cry, but he wanted to see that his friend was at least a little upset that he was leaving.

But the Slovene talked like normal, laughed like normal, and seemed happier than normal.

And Spike was stuck feeling miserable.

He was stuck despising himself for how he hadn't spent any time with his friend since he'd found out he was leaving two weeks prior. He couldn't bring himself to face it, and every time he saw the Slovene, it only shoved it back in his face.

He hated it.

Matic wasn't going to be in school the next day. He'd be taken to the terminal by his host family. Jem would probably give his 'Eurobro' one last rough hug before the Slovene boarded his plane to the John F. Kennedy International Airport in New York, New York. From New York, Matic would kiss America goodbye and fly back to his home, where he supposedly belonged.

Spike vowed to never befriend an exchange student ever again.

What made the app feel even worse about the whole deal was that his last goodbye was as numb as it could possibly be. He could barely face his friend, who gave him the ever-friendly "Zbogom prijatelj."

Spike wanted to punch him.

When he walked away from Jem's house that night, the app felt like crap.

To put it nicely.

He'd kicked every pebble that stood in his way, he'd glared at any person he passed. He'd even crushed a few anthills. Petty, and they did nothing to make him feel better.

What he needed was some furniture to break. Somebody to punch, to lay out. Something to insult the crap out of.

To put it nicely.

To make it even worse, because they would no longer have a captain, Matic had named his successor. Henry. Not that Henry was bad, but that Matic was gone.

Spike had been named as the new fullback. Nick would take Spike's spot as the wing.

"Arrrgh!" Spike roared, punching a nearby fence post. His cry rang in the night air, bouncing off the houses that lined the street he walked along. Somebody slammed a door.

The app looked down at his knuckles. They were already swelling, blood slithering through the crevices in the back of his hand and caking around the broken skin. He didn't care. He continued walking.

If today had been terrible, tomorrow would be a nightmare. Tomorrow was the next playoff game, the game that might send them to state. The team was going to play it.

Without Matic.


	71. Chapter 71

Since the hard drive mission, the rest of the Davenport-Dooley family had also been out of sorts. They had found a new sadness for Chase, a new anger with Spike.

Especially on Friday.

Spike had discovered this upon waking up, and he could feel it sucking what little energy he had, darkening what little light he tried to force himself to focus on. He'd been blindsided, and he hated it.

Bree wouldn't make eye-contact with him. Couldn't.

Adam avoided him whenever he could.

So did Mr. Davenport.

Tasha was sweet but cool. Not half as pleasant as ice cream.

Leo blatantly glared at him through bloodshot eyes.

Spike decided that he hated them all.

As soon as he was presentable to walk around in public, the app was gone. Backpack slung on his shoulders, hat pulled low over his eyes, part of an uncooked bagel being ground by his teeth while what was left was in his hand.

Spike decided that he hated sesame seeds.

He walked at a brisk pace, almost as brisk as the morning breeze. It was cool and heavy, just like his mood. He had a feeling it would rain, and that suited him just fine.

When he made it to the school, he attempted to storm through the doors. They met him with metal resistance. Locked.

 _I must have moved a lot faster than I'd thought,_ Spike thought to himself with irritation. He looked over the campus, gray light giving everything a dreary weight.

He turned his back to the door and slid down, resting his arms on his knees. He pulled out his phone and plugged in the earbuds, plugging himself into music, into escape.

 _Glass House_. Red. That was the first song that came on, and for once Spike paid attention to the words. He was in the mood to listen to words. While he liked the sound, the message of hope… the message grated on the bionic. He felt hopeless, and he felt like wallowing in self-pity. He wasn't exactly sure what the lyrics were talking about, but it was too good for the app to appreciate.

He skipped to the next song. _In The End_ by Linkin Park.

 _In the end, it doesn't even matter._

Now this was Spike's kind of song for the moment. The day. The week. For the rest of his life.

All the effort, all the emotion, all the little victories… in the end….

 _It doesn't even matter._

Spike set his phone to replay and let his head hang down with his hands.

 _In the end, it doesn't even matter._

He felt warmth press up against him, and his head whipped up, shooting a glare at the person who dared to approach him. But his eyes softened when he realized who it was, and he shifted his hand to lower the bill of his hat a little more. He pulled out an earbud.

"Spike, what's wrong?" Paige asked, giving him a concerned look.

"Nothing," he grunted, starting to push himself up. Paige laid her hand on his shoulder, pressing him back down.

"You're here earlier than usual, and you're sitting outside the school by yourself," she said pointedly.

"The doors are locked," Spike replied.

"They open them up at seven – that was almost ten minutes ago. How long have you been here?"

He shrugged, his moodiness seeping into his body language. Paige picked it up with ease.

"Spike, something is clearly bothering you – won't you just tell me?" she pressed.

"I'm fine," Spike bit out, trying to get up again.

"Does it have to do with Matic?"

Spike froze for a moment before sinking back to the ground.

"He left today, right? Nick's pretty upset too. Matic was a nice guy."

"I'm not sure how we're going to play tonight without him – he's the one who actually knew what he was doing."

Paige saw through Spike's mask, but she played along anyway. "You'll just have to be your usual 'star player' self and lead the team to victory."

"Are you kidding?" he looked at her, working hard to control his emotions, to not even feel them… AI's don't feel…. "He made me the fullback. I can't play his position!"

"He thought you could."

Spike ducked his head with an angry huff. But it wasn't only anger….

"You don't think you can replace him, do you?" Paige asked gently.

The app remained as he was.

"He's not dead, you know."

"I know," he snarled, his fists clenching and unclenching. Paige watched him warily, but she didn't leave his side. "I'm not that upset about it, okay?"

"It's okay to miss him – weren't you pretty good friends with him?"

"Sort of."

"You miss him already."

"No, I don't."

Paige puffed, her cheeks flushing with frustration. "Spike, please just talk to me. I'm trying to help you, and I need you to talk to me and not lie."

"I don't need your help." He looked up to her face and saw her features clouded with hurt.

"You need some help – should I take you to the counselor's office?"

"No!"

"Your siblings? Your parents?"

"No. Don't even talk about them."

"What's wrong with them?"

Spike glared at her for a moment before he caught himself. He averted his eyes.

"Spike, did something happen with you and your family? Is that part of this?"

"I didn't ask you to be a shrink," Spike growled.

Paige sighed. "You know what? I give up. Come talk to me when you can control your temper. I'm trying to help you because I care about you, but you clearly don't want it." She stood, brushing herself off.

"I'm sorry," the app croaked, and Paige stopped. She watched him stand up as well, and he looked her in the eyes. "You can't help me, and I don't want you to. But I don't want to push you away. Please don't ask about it anymore." He heaved a breath, swinging his bag up to his shoulders.

"Okay," she said quietly. They began walking into the school with the other kids who trickled into the building. "Are you sure I can't help? Are you sure there's nothing else?"

Spike wiped his hand down his face. "Today is Chase's birthday."

* * *

 **AN: Um, so obviously, when I wrote this... I didn't know that Chase's birthday was August 5th... _shhhh_! Let's pretend that it's in the spring, 'kay? If anyone asks... Asori is right.**

 **Can I just quickly mention that I appreciated that in that episode they mentioned using Chase's force field to protect him from his magnetism glitch? Some of you may know why ;)**

 **Thanks for all of the support through favorites, follows, and reviews! Y'all are pretty cool, and I look forward to reading the cool things you have to say (*wink wink*).**

 **Thanks for putting up with this fairly peppy author's note that so grossly contradicts the mood of the story right now - seeya in Chapter 72!**


	72. Chapter 72

Spike pulled on his rugby uniform, and when his head made it out of the shirt collar, his eyes made contact with Leo's glowering ones.

"What are you staring at, molerat?" Spike snapped.

Leo stalked over to the app, and Adam and Bree looked up from their respective activities of shredding packing peanuts and looking at other peoples' selfies. "You don't belong here, not today. You say you killed Chase, and now we believe you. He tried to come back – twice – and you- you-" Leo reddened, his fists clenched tightly.

Spike's self-control broke. He'd worked hard at it all day, but now – this was the last straw. His family had been pushing him, and he wasn't going to tolerate it anymore. "Guess what? He didn't try to come back just two times, but more than that. He fought me several times, and I won every time. I won in the end." Let them think that Chase had fought five times, ten times, ten thousand times….

The app watched with sick satisfaction as his siblings died just a little bit more.

Leo looked ready to cry; his eyes blazed with fury. "I don't even know what to say to you anymore."

"Tell me I'm a monster? Go ahead! You're in good company!" Spike splayed his hands out wide. "You know what would have made today even better? If today had been the day that I killed Chase – then not only would it have been his birthday, but also his deathday. How perfect is that?"

Bree seemed to curl with pain, and Adam swept his packing peanuts off the counter angrily. Leo stormed up to the youngest bionic, breathing hard with emotion. "You really are a monster, you know that? We never wanted you here in the first place, but you come along and take Chase away from us, and then mock us? You. Are. A. Monster."

"Chase said that about me too, didn't he?"

"And he was right. There was a reason you were just a glitch!"

"Am I? Am I, Leo? Am I, Adam and Bree?" Spike snarled. "He _activated_ me. What do you think of your precious Chase now?"

"You liar!" Adam shouted. "I hate you!"

"Really. You would say that to Chase's face. You would say that to your brother," Spike said with a nasty leer.

"You're not our brother," Adam rumbled. "Get out of this house."

"You don't belong here," Leo added darkly.

Spike glowered at them in turn, his gaze murderous. "You're right, I don't. Consider this the last time you see your little brother. I'm out of here. Screw you all!" He turned and stormed out of the lab. Leo's 'storming' seemed like a rain shower in comparison to the app's hurricane.

"What did you just do?" Bree whispered.

* * *

Spike strode along the side of the road, his cleats clacking on the tar. He extended and curled his fingers over and over, his teeth grinding. He was done with all of this.

He heard the squeal of brakes, and a car pulled up next to him, matching his pace. The window rolled down to reveal Henry's head. "Hey Spike, need a ride?"

"I'm not playing tonight," Spike replied sourly.

Henry's eyebrows rose. "You sure look like you are. Come on, we need to talk strategy anyways."

"What's the point? We're going to lose without Matic anyways."

Henry snorted. "Don't let Matic hear you say that. You're the player that can make the difference, so kick the attitude. Get in the car." Henry stopped, and Spike heaved a sigh. He pulled open the door and plopped in, slamming the door behind him. Henry accelerated up to the speed limit.

"What ran you over?" Henry asked.

"I don't get run over," Spike grunted.

"Whatever, man. So you're the fullback now, so that means you call the shots. I'm the captain, and I run the team. What's your plan tonight?"

It was Spike's turn to snort. "Don't have one."

Henry spared him a hard look. "Come on man, don't you care about this? These games could take us to state – that's huge! We've already made it this far."

Spike looked out the window sullenly. Everything was growing darker with darker clouds overhead. Even from inside the car, the app could tell that the air itself was heavy.

"So what's your plan?" Henry pressed.

Spike sighed. "We'll run our usual sequence and improvise when we need to."

"We've already played Welkerville – they know how we play."

"You really think they're going to remember it that well? It was eight games ago that we last played them."

"This is a big deal. I think they will remember. We beat them last time and the time before, and they aren't going to want us to beat them again."

Spike groaned, rubbing his face. "Then we'll just have to figure it out. The odds are against them anyways."

Henry nodded, but the bionic didn't see it. The rest of the ride was in silence, and it was a relief for both of them when they reached the fields and hopped out.

"Where's your stuff?" Henry called across his car. The two of them darted through the parking lot onto the grass.

"Forgot it," Spike replied. In fighting with his siblings, he hadn't thought to bring his bag. It held his change of clothes, his water bottle, his towel, his snack, his money, his phone….

 _Eh, I don't need those anyways._

The two of them sat down in the grass next to the few teammates that were already there, Spike immediately fixing the laces of his one shoe.

"So, Captain Henry, what's our battle plan today?" Mac, one of the offensive line players, asked.

"Kinda just what we do. Spike's our fullback, so he's calling the shots," Henry answered. Spike glared up at him.

"Does Spike even know how to run that position? Especially for our formations?" Mac asked. Spike shifted his glare over to him.

The other guys shifted nervously. It wasn't clear if Spike would actually know what he was doing, but it was clear that he was in an especially bad mood. If nothing else went wrong, it would be that Spike was kicked out of the game for excessive violence on the field.

"Yo homies!" Trent announced as he jogged up to the group. "Let's kick some pirate butt tonight!"

"They're tigers[19]," Spike corrected in a deep growl. Trent's attention snapped to him.

"Whatever, Davenport. We're going to kick their butts." The senior plopped down next to Henry, and Spike turned his attention back to his shoelaces. He wasn't in the mood for rugby or being around his teammates. He wanted to strangle them all.

What he really wanted to do was to get out of there. Go off on his own where no one could find him. Make some trouble if he couldn't find any. If he was going to take on the world, Spike wasn't about to get bored by it. If he did, he might just find himself thinking about how he really didn't belong in it.

"Alright, Dingoes, line up for warm-ups." Henry's call jerked the app out of his brooding, and he climbed to his feet after his teammates and lined up with them. Run down, run back. He thought about the guys on the other team. High knees, butt kicks. They weren't much of anything. Their offensive line wasn't very big. Grapevine down, grapevine back. Their defensive line wasn't very fast. Frankensteins, lunges. They should be easy to beat. Really, it couldn't be that hard. Shuffle down, shuffle back. How Welkerville made it as far as they had was a mystery to the app.

Henry called a sprint across the field and back, and Spike took his place at the head of the pack. Easy peasy. Lemon squeezy.

Spike wanted to rip himself apart for even thinking that absolutely stupid rhyme.

When everyone had gotten back from the sprint and had watered, Henry called them in. "Guys, let's run some of our strategies. The other team isn't here yet, and we have to practice without Matic."

The team nodded, but Spike scowled. As they were walking out to their positions, the app had to catch himself – he wasn't the left wing anymore, so he shouldn't be going to that spot. He was the fullback.

"Call the one we're running, Spike," Henry called back.

Spike stared up the field, trying to visualize it. He couldn't.

"Come on, man, we don't have much time," Carter reminded him.

"Spike has no idea what he's doing," Trent sneered.

Spike darkened further, a murderous glint in his eyes. He flexed and relaxed his hands, clenching his teeth. The codeword rose to his lips. "Dingoes, bully!"

Trent glared back at him.

* * *

[19] The Welkerville high school mascot may or may not be the tigers in the canon plot.


	73. Chapter 73

"Banana split!

"Square!

"Dive bomb!"

Spike shouted the combo code words throughout the game, and almost every time the resulting formation failed. Not that it was entirely the team's fault, but that the formations more often than not didn't work in the situation Spike called them. His teammates grew steadily more and more frustrated.

And sore. Because of the positions Spike put them in, they were being pummeled. Jem had already been benched for a cracked rib; they had no more subs, so they were tired too. This made them ever more crabby.

After yet another failed run, Jorge finally turned on the app. "Stop calling bad formations! Eres estúpido!" The older boy shoved the app.

"What did you say to me, spic?" Spike snarled, shoving back harder.

"Oh, you did not," Jorge forced an angry laugh, shaking his head. He shoved the app again. "I said _estúpido_. Eres. Estúpido."

The ref's whistle cut the air, but the two boys paid it no mind. Trent pushed them apart, saying "Guys – hit the other team! And Davenport, stop being an idiot and actually call good combos!"

"Back off, pea-brain!" Spike shouted, whacking Trent's arm away. The senior's expression screwed into one of pain before he glowered at the app, rubbing his arm. He and Jorge stalked back to their positions, and Spike let out a growl. It only made him angrier when he saw that the guys on the other team were sharing looks of mirth with each other. They were winning handily, and with the morale of the Dingoes breaking down, they weren't worried about losing their lead.

"Spike, call Dewy," Carter suggested over his shoulder.

Spike shouldered his anger, glaring straight ahead without responding to his friend. He wasn't about to accept help, from his teammates or his super-intelligence. It infuriated him that he just couldn't seem to get his head into the game, to see it the way he normally did. It was his ability to know what was going on that Matic had been thinking of, but suddenly Spike felt blind. Blind with rage roaring to break free. Roaring to devour someone.

"Dingoes, high horse!"

The guys glanced at each other, but they carried out the formation anyways. Spike watched with frustration as each possession was being cut short by tackles, and he wanted nothing more than to intercede and do the job himself. He saw his opportunity as Carter called for Nick and threw the ball his way.

Spike lunged forward and leapt to intercept the ball midair, earning himself a confused "Hey!" from his teammates. He wove his way through the mess of players, faking and dodging with near impossible reflexes and speed. As he broke into the clear, he took off for the try line.

He was running, he was flying away, away from that field, from that life, from everything….

All the air in the app's lungs was knocked out with the first impact, and any that had found its way back in was crushed by the second with the ground. He rolled several times before he flopped to a halt, staring up at the field lights glaring down at him. The rage within him rose up with a terrible roar.

Spike leapt to his feet, finding the guy who had taken him down. His fist swung back for only a moment before it was flying forward to powerfully deck the other player in the face.

The other guy screamed as an awful _crack!_ sounded through the air, the opponent falling to the grass. Spike stood over him, glowering as his chest rose and fell with violent emotion. He looked up to duck a punch from a different player on the other team, and the punch of another. The referee's whistle pierced the shouts, and the man quickly got in between Spike and the Welkerville Tigers.

"Get back!" the ref yelled, pushing Spike back behind him. The man turned his anger on the app. "What's wrong with you? This isn't a street fight – you're out of the game! In fact, you're out of the league! Get off the field, kid!"

Carter was right beside Spike, and he pulled the app away from the ref. Spike shoved him off, snarling "Get off of me!"

"What was that? Don't you see what you did? That kid's jaw is probably broken because of you!" Carter growled, pulling Spike close to make him listen. "And now you aren't allowed to play high school rugby anymore – it will be a wonder if you're ever allowed to play _any_ high school sport after that!"

"I don't care!" Spike shouted. "I don't care about any of this, I don't care about any of you! Get lost already!"

Carter's face clouded with anger, and he slowly backed away without saying anything more. Spike turned around in a huff and stormed off the field.

Oh, how he _burned_. Punching that kid hadn't relieved the anger that was building within him; it had sparked it into all-consuming flame, a flame that wanted to scorch anyone who tried to fight it. And even those who didn't.

"Spike! Spike, wait up!" Spike didn't slow, and in moments Paige had caught up to him, needing to jog to match his pace. "Spike, what happened out there? That's not you."

The app stopped, turning on her. "Isn't it, though?" He wanted to hurt someone – the fire demanded it – but seeing her soft eyes set him back in control. He wanted to hurt someone, but not her. He clacked his teeth together before continuing on his departure. She grabbed his arm and pulled him back to a stop.

"Spike, what's wrong? You've bottled it up too long, and you just hurt somebody! You need to talk, _now_."

Spike turned to face her, fighting to keep his mask on. Paige's expression saddened as she saw through it.

"Spike," she whispered.

The app pinched the bridge of his nose, heaving large breaths. "I can't, Paige."

"Just let it spill out, Spike. You don't have to hide it from me – I'm trying to help you."

"No." He turned to watch the last play unfold before the final whistle blew. Both teams' shoulders slumped, the Tigers crowding around the player Spike had injured and the Dingoes dragging their feet in utter defeat. Spike felt a pang of guilt. He had let them down.

 _I'm a failure. None of this matters because as hard as I try, it never works out. In the end..._

Paige took his hand and began leading him back to the school ahead of his teammates. "Why don't you get cleaned up, and then we can talk, okay?"

They walked back in silence, listening to the quite murmurs of disappointment from Spike's teammates behind them. Rain began to fall, glittering in the harsh stadium lights.

"This morning you said that today was Chase's birthday, but you never explained who Chase was and why that was a bad thing," Paige said softly after several long minutes. "Do you want to tell me now?"

"No."

"Was he a brother that you lost? A friend?"

Spike snorted. "No, not at all."

"Then who was he?"

Spike held his tongue, and Paige heaved a sigh into the silence. "Whatever."

The app looked up into the dark, bulbous clouds only visible hanging over them by the growing-distant stadium lights. A large droplet landed on his eyebrow and dribbled into his eye, but he simply blinked it back. His hair clung to his face, dripping rivulets of water down his forehead and cheeks.

They approached the front of the school, the lights dim inside. Entering, he pulled Paige to the side of the hallway, turning her to face him. "I'm sorry you had to see that out there, I just… I don't know," he croaked.

Paige stared at him, her eyes darting across his face, trying to read his expression. An ache rose up from within the app, and he stepped closer to her.

Spike gazed into her soft green eyes, reaching out and tenderly gripping her bare upper-arms. Keeping his stare fixed on hers, he let his hands slowly slide up to her shoulders where his left hand slid to the base of her neck, and his right traced its way to her chin. Gently lifting her head up, he let his instincts guide him as he leaned in.

"No, Spike," Paige gasped after a moment of stupor, moving her head out of his hand and looking down.

"Paige," Spike whispered soothingly, taking her head back in his hand as he began moving in once more.

"I said no," Paige said firmly in a quiet voice, bringing her hands up between herself and the commando app. Keeping her gaze down-turned, she pressed against his chest and tried to push herself out of his embrace.

"Don't you love me?" Spike found himself asking, holding her in place. As he voiced this question, it was as if a dam inside of him had broken. The commando app had never been liked, much less _loved_ by anyone before – not really, not after the day he'd been through – and in that moment he knew what he had always been looking for. Security, kindness, _love_. He saw these in Paige, and the thought of being rejected by her was agonizing.

He'd been rejected by everyone he knew already – his family, the team. That was all he had, really. He didn't know if he could take one more, especially from _her_.

"Spike…" Paige began, looking at him helplessly. In her eyes he saw how uncomfortable she was, how afraid she was, how _sad_ she was. Sadness. That could only mean one thing: she felt bad that she was going to reject him. Rejection.

Spike felt his spirit break.

"No, Paige," he croaked before she could voice the unbearable. Before he knew what he was doing, he was holding her tightly and leaning in close, pressing her delicate form to his own as he tried to make contact with her lips.

"Spike, stop it!" she exclaimed, turning her head as far away from him as she could. She began to fight him, trying to break free of his iron grip.

 _Love me!_ he inwardly screamed, pushing her to the wall and trapping her in his arms so that she could not escape. He chased after her mouth with a new fervor, almost relishing in the challenge as she kept whipping her head back and forth to avoid him.

By this time Paige was overcome by fear, and she desperately pushed and hit the bionic with all her might, but his enhanced strength held her tight. "Help me! Somebody help me!" she cried out, tears streaming from her eyes. "Spike, _stop it_! Please!"

Distantly Spike heard angry yelling, but he tuned it out, continuing to press his advance. He was entirely consumed by his one desire. Without warning, he was ripped away from Paige, flailing to the ground.

Heaving air into his lungs once more, Spike gathered his wits back about him, leaping to his feet as he spotted the offender. Fire blazed in his eyes from the very depths of his soul, and the app became the force of nature he was feared to be.


	74. Chapter 74

"Get the _hell_ away from my sister!" Nick roared, lunging forward to continue his attack on the app. Spike caught the wrist of his flying fist, bending it backwards and kicking his feet out from beneath him to slam him to the ground. He whirled around to punch Henry coming from the other side, ducking underneath another swing from behind him.

The app spun around from opponent to opponent, his fists meeting flesh, his knees finding organs, his feet crashing into bone. He rolled boys over his back, he flipped over tackles, he swung enemies into each other. The scabbed skin on his knuckles was broken and caked with fresh blood, but it was nothing compared to the blood of his teammates that smeared on him with every dangerous blow.

 _These are the enemies. Kill them, kill them all._

"Spike!" Paige shouted. Her voice was like razor sharp ice, piercing the bionic and freezing him in place. As he blinked and slowly looked to her, he was quickly apprehended by his teammates that weren't too damaged. Their grip on his arms was tight, pulling his limbs behind him painfully.

Paige stood from where she had been kneeling by her twin, walking right up to Spike. Her furious eyes were rimmed with red and the skin around them tear-stained, but their power over the bionic was no less diminished. Looking directly at Spike, she said in a quiet voice "I thought better of you. There's so much I could say right now…." Her breathing hitched, but she swallowed her emotions back down, clenching and unclenching her teeth as she regained her composure. "It's over, Spike. You've lost tonight, and you've lost me. You've lost all of us. You aren't who I thought you were; you're a _monster._ "

Every word she had spoken was like a hammer blow to the bionic, but the last was the most devastating. Choking on a gasp of emotional pain, Spike ducked his head for a long moment as he tried to catch his breath and stay the threatening tears. He had lost control of himself, and now he had lost everything.

" _Aaahhh_!" he suddenly screamed in a heart-wrenching expression of his pain, simultaneously throwing off his teammates-turned-captors in one last burst of incredible strength. He turned on his heel and sprinted to the doors, breaching them without breaking stride. He was met by a wall of torrential rain, but he ran through it; to where, he didn't know. For the first time in his life, Spike truly ran _away_.

The pouring rain quickly drenched the app, soaking him to the bone. With every frantic step he collided with countless falling droplets of water, spraying them in the air as if they were an aura about him. Tiny rivulets ran down the bionic's face, filling every contour and crevice with water from the heavens above.

Between the potent darkness and the water in his eyes, Spike was unable to make out his surroundings well at all. He seemed to be guided by a sixth sense, or maybe it was a combination of the five senses he possessed; he was not sure, but either way he suspected his bionics were responsible. Once he brushed past a large bush to his right, distantly feeling his exposed flesh scraped by the twisting fingers of the branches and prickly leaves. Another time he tripped over a log lying across his path, but somehow his feet found their way underneath him again. But that was as close as he came to being hindered in his flight.

 _Where am I?_ he vaguely wondered. _Where am I going? Will I ever stop?_

 _No,_ he answered himself. _Can't stop. Can't think. Can't feel. I am alone. I have always been alone. I will always be alone. I am he who stands alone, but I will never stop to stand. I will run. I must run._

 _But run to where?_ he pressed.

 _Where I go doesn't matter. All that matters is that I don't stop. I need to run. I need to escape._

 _Escape._

Spike choked on that thought as he had choked on his pain, breathing in air and water alike. This brought him to awareness of his physical condition, and finally he registered his searing muscles, his throbbing head, and his burning lungs. His skin was laced with gooseflesh, his throat was raw, and his face was buzzing with a strange zeal. He had already sprinted several miles and he was of the will to run forever, but his body could not take that kind of abuse.

The commando app broke the line of trees, spotting an orange glow in the near distance. He made one last valiant sprint of the self-determined homestretch, coming to a stumbling stop below the lamppost. He was at the intersection of a highway and a cross-street, appearing to be away from all other human life. _As it should be,_ he thought despondently.

Bending over to calm his frenzied wheezing and to fight off the encroaching dizziness, he watched the small tributaries run off his bangs, his brow, his eyelashes, the tip of his nose, his lips, and his chin, the mixture of water, sweat, and tears adding to the cascade of rainwater falling all around him. The little droplets glimmered and sparkled with gold in the weak light of the lamp. _Just like Paige's beautiful curly hair,_ he observed without thinking about what that meant to him.

That thought was as salt in an open wound, and Spike heaved a ragged sob as he stood back up straight, his crying renewed. He stepped over to the lamppost, falling back onto it so that it supported most of his weight, and he buried his face in his hands. What had he done? How had he let himself lose control like that? How could he have hurt his teammates, his _friends_ like that? How could he have hurt _Paige_?

"I don't know," he sobbed. "I don't know, I don't know, I don't know…."

Paige. She was his power, his pleasure, his pain. She was everything he had ever wanted, she was all that he had ever needed. She was a tranquil river, a spirited breeze, a blooming flower.

She had embodied all that was good and made him want to be the best that he could be. She had been his: his to love, his to learn from, his to protect. But instead of protecting her, he had become the monster that hurt her. He had failed her.

And now she was gone.

Just like Matic. Just like his teammates. Just like his family. He had lost everyone he had come to care about; he had lost _everything_.

 _They all hate me,_ Spike realized. _Well, Matic doesn't, but if he knew what I had done – what I am – he would hate me too. But I'm used to being hated; it wasn't a bad thing before, so why is it a bad thing now?_

 _Because I didn't care before,_ a small part of him piped up.

He took an uneven breath. _They're the enemies. They always are. They always will be,_ he reminded himself.

 _But they weren't. They never were – not even Chase. They were my friends, my family, Paige..._

 _But no longer._

At that Spike felt his world come crashing down all around him, and he began crying uncontrollably. His tears flowed freely, his chest heaving violently with harried gasps that caused him to quickly grow lightheaded. _I really messed up,_ he thought over and over again, slowly sliding down the pole until he hit the ground, leaning his forehead on his knees. _What do I do?_

 _What would Chase do?_

That thought surprised the app, but he continued along that line of thinking. _How did you do this, Chase? I've always been the fighter, but for once that has made me weaker. You are stronger… you are stronger, and now I know that I can't do this. This life is not mine – it never was – and I was not meant to stay and live it._

 _Chase, come back. I need you to come back. I need you, Chase._

No response. Silence.

Nothing.

Nothing at all.

 _Chase, come back!_ Spike pleaded frantically, his mental voice rising in pitch and intensity. _You can't be dead! Please don't be dead! Where are you? You need to come back! I can't do this anymore!_

 _Chase!_

 _CHASE!_

* * *

 **AN: Man...**

 **All I've really got to say is that this marks another intermission - the next chapter will be up in around a week from now.**

 **Thank you all for the support this story receives through follows, favorites, and reviews - y'all rock.**

 **Keep a look out for Chapter 75!**


	75. Chapter 75

"Gah-ah-ah," a boy gasped, staring straight ahead as he writhed on the ground. It was not the pain that paralyzed him, but his rebellious, trembling muscles that allowed him no control.

His cheek pressed into the rocky tar, water lapped at his nose even as more ran down his face from above. He managed to keep his lips shut despite his clacking teeth, sucking in air through his nostrils.

Frenzied ripples wracked the water as the ground began shaking, and a distant roar grew into existence. The movement became more violent as the growl intensified and bright lights washed over him, and in the pinnacle of loudness, the car howled by. It quickly faded, and the boy was left alone in his misery once more.

Only the pattering of stinging rain marked the passing of time, but even that seemed timeless in the golden-orange glow of the reigning lamppost. It was during this phenomenon that the boy overcame what bodily plagued him, and as his muscles finally relaxed, he rolled onto his back, heaving breath after breath.

Closing his eyes, his head lolled to the side as he welcomed unconsciousness.

* * *

The quiet _click_ of the front door opening was the only fanfare that announced the newcomer. While the hour was late, the main living area of the Davenport mansion was still brightly lit and filled with life, however numb it was.

Mr. Davenport and Tasha looked up, Tasha standing as she saw who it was. "Spike, you're soaking wet – you'll get sick!"

The youngest bionic looked around, merely nodding in response and gently shutting the door behind him. Bree looked up from her phone as Mr. Davenport stood as well, the adults walking over to meet the sopping boy.

"Let's get you dry and warmed up, honey," Tasha said, laying her hand on his shoulder and beginning to guide him further into the house. The boy nodded again, uncertainty etched on his face.

Mr. Davenport did not miss this, and he asked softly "Spike, what's wrong?"

The youngest bionic blinked, whispering "My head hurts. I'm… confused."

"Confused about what?" the billionaire pressed.

"I don't really remember anything. I know I'm in the right place, I… uh, I… um, recognize, stuff…"

Mr. Davenport's breath caught, and he made eye contact with his wife. Bree came over at this, asking her brother, "Do you know who we are?"

"Kind of," he closed his eyes.

"Can you tell us what happened at your rugby game?" Mr. Davenport asked.

The youngest bionic squeezed his eyes shut tighter. "What?"

The billionaire turned back to his wife and daughter. "I think he has a concussion," he said quietly. "Bree, help me take him down to the lab. Tasha, can you get him some food?"

The ladies nodded, Tasha scurrying to the kitchen and Bree tenderly putting her brother's arm over her shoulder and supporting him as Mr. Davenport did the same on the other side. They were surprised that the boy gave no resistance, but they did not question it, simply doing what needed to be done.

It wasn't long before the three of them arrived in the lab and the youngest bionic was guided into his capsule. Adam and Leo looked up from the movie they were watching, curiosity striking them for only a moment before they moodily returned to the computer screen.

"Okay Bree, I'm going to run some scans on him – don't let him sleep, or else he might go into a coma," Mr. Davenport commanded.

Bree nodded, turning back to her delirious brother. She was about to speak when he said in a whisper she had to strain to hear: "I already slept tonight."

Bree frowned, saying "You did? Well, that's good, I think."

He leaned against the side of his capsule.

"I'm still not going to let you sleep, though," Bree stated.

"Please?" he whined.

The middle bionic chewed her lip. It was strange to see Spike so, so – so like _this_. She actually wanted to let him sleep, but she also knew that she needed to follow Mr. Davenport's orders, just in case.

Changing the subject, she asked "So, what's up?"

The younger bionic opened his eyes just long enough to give her a look.

"You said your head hurts?"

"Yes," he hissed.

"Anything else?"

He shook his head.

"That's good at least." Bree shifted uncomfortably. Her eyes flickered to his bruised and bloodied knuckles. "How did tonight go?"

"I told you I can't remember."

"Right." She turned to her father figure, seeing him bent over his cyber-desk, rapidly typing. "How much longer?" she asked him.

"I don't know," Mr. Davenport muttered absentmindedly. "The scan is still running."

The elevator dinged, and at that moment Tasha entered the lab carrying a bowl of hot chicken broth. Her heels clicking on the concrete floor, she asked the boy in the middle capsule, "Are you hungry, sweetie?"

"I know I am," Adam said, turning from his movie and raising his hand hopefully.

"It's for your brother," Tasha said without amusement.

"Aw, thanks Mom. But really, I'm okay. You can let Adam have it," Leo replied.

Tasha shot them an angry look. "Your _other_ brother."

Adam and Leo darkened. "He's not our brother," Adam said, and the two of them turned away again.

The youngest bionic opened his eyes, looking at Tasha with innocent confusion and sadness clouding his hazel orbs. Tasha sighed, forcing a small smile and opening the capsule door, handing him the bowl. "Here honey, this will make you feel better."

He took it, staring down at the steaming liquid. The smell filled his nostrils, making his stomach churn. He looked back up at his step-mother, saying softly "Thank you, but I don't think I can eat anything."

"Are you sure?"

He nodded, handing her back the food. "I might get sick."

"Okay, but let me know if you want it," Tasha said, closing the glass door. She walked over to where her husband still poured over the desk, setting the bowl of uneaten soup on it.

"Um, can you move that please?" Mr. Davenport said irritably.

Tasha ignored the request, asking "Donald, will he be okay?"

"As far as I can tell, his brain isn't swelling, which is good. His bionics seem to be fine, and the only thing wrong with him physically are his bruises from that barbaric sport of his."

"That's wonderful," Tasha said with relief.

"No – well, yes it is – but I can't figure out what's wrong with him," Donald said with an intensity, refusing to look up from his work.

"Maybe you don't have to," she said soothingly, coming around the desk and draping her arms on his shoulder. "Maybe what he needs is some rest."

Donald brought his gaze up to Tasha's eyes, staring into them for a long moment. "Okay," he said softly. Turning back to the desk, he entered a few commands to soundproof and block out the light of the middle capsule.

"Mr. Davenport, what are you doing?" Bree asked as the glass turned opaque, and she turned to face the billionaire.

"I can't find anything seriously wrong with Spike right now, so I think rest will be the best thing for him. He's not in danger of going into a coma at this point." With that said, he and Tasha began making their way to the elevator. After a moment of indecision, Bree followed.

As soon as the elevator doors slid shut, Adam leapt to his feet, saying "I call the soup!"

"Go for it," Leo chuckled, turning back to his movie. But as he tried to return his focus to what was playing out on the screen, his thoughts were consumed by the youngest bionic, and he glanced over at the solid-colored capsule. Despite his resentment for the app, he felt bad for him. He hoped that this would all blow over and that there would be no permanent damage.

* * *

 **AN: So, we're up and running again. Confused? Or no?**

 **On an unrelated note, the last post was on October 30th...  
** **HAPPY belated HALLOWEEN!  
** **Yes, I'm horrible at being a decent human being, how can I live with myself?**

 **Welp, thanks for bearing with me anyways - y'all are wonderful with your follows, favorites, and reviews, and stuff.**

 **Keep an eye out for Chapter 76!**


	76. Chapter 76

The youngest bionic's eyes snapped open, his breathing harried and sweat pouring from his glands. Everything spun around him, flashing in every kind of color. Images, sounds, and sensations bombarded him, seeming to send him tumbling through space and time.

He slipped to the floor of his capsule, weakly supporting himself as pain shot through him. Pain that originated from his chip.

 _"Mr. Davenport, you have to let me go to school."_

 _"Guys, this is our first mission."_

 _"Let's do this together – as brothers."_

 _"I… might have lied."_

 _"Because of you, we almost got caught!"_

 _"Come on, Josh, come on!"_

 _"I really can't breathe – get me out of here!"_

 _"CHASE!"_

"Ahhh!" the bionic screamed, clutching his head. The pain subsided, leaving him trembling on the floor. After a long moment of shock, the realization hit him. "Oh my gosh," he breathed, shooting to his feet.

Pushing open his capsule door, he stumbled out of his glass tube and raced to the elevator, jamming his finger into the button dozens of times before the doors opened. He bolted inside, and closing the elevator doors, he paced back and forth; the elevator just couldn't seem to move fast enough.

As soon as the doors slid open, he was out and sprinting into the main living area. He came skidding to a stop, looking around at each of his startled family members in turn with panic ruling his features.

"Spike, what's wrong?" Tasha asked.

"Don't call me that!" he exploded. Everyone froze, and the youngest bionic gulped in a large breath before demanding "Why are you calling me that?"

Eyes wide, the others were at a loss for words. They couldn't move, they couldn't breathe. His voice...

"Why do you keep calling me that?" he repeated, this time his voice shaking. "How long? How long has it been?"

"Chase?" Bree whispered, tears welling in her eyes.

He looked directly at her, his fear palpable. "Yes," he breathed. "Yes. Yes, I'm Chase. I'm Chase." The last iteration of his name destroyed the dam that was keeping him in control, and the youngest bionic broke down sobbing.

Through his meltdown, Chase could hear the gasps, shouts, laughter, and crying of the rest of his family, and it wasn't long before he felt himself being tackled from all directions. Within the arms of the people he loved, he finally let the pain go. He _was_ loved, and that was all that mattered.

* * *

Chase slouched in the bar stool, his left hand to his forehead and a peanut-butter-and-jelly sandwich in the other as he absentmindedly chewed. His eyes darted around, but he couldn't keep them off of the rest of his family for very long, who stared at him as if he might disappear at any given moment.

Swallowing, followed by a sigh, he asked a question that was nagging at him. "Why the heck am I wearing this?" He gestured to his muddy, grass-stained uniform.

"You were playing rugby last night," Leo smirked.

"What?"

"Ask Spike if you want to know more. He's the one who joined the team."

"Mission Creek doesn't have a rugby team."

"We do now."

Chase looked away, taking another bite of his sandwich. "Guys, how long has it been?"

"We thought you were dead," Bree whispered, pinching the bridge of her nose to stay the tears.

Chase turned to look at her directly, asking "Why did you think I was dead? _How long?_ "

"Three months," Mr. Davenport answered, his voice almost inaudible.

The youngest bionic's eyes widened. " _Three months?_ How?!"

"You tell us," Leo said with a shrug. Tense silence befell them, and Chase shifted in his seat. He glanced down at his torn-up knuckles.

"You remember the day you turned into Spike?" Adam asked.

"Yeah," Chase said in an undertone.

"Trent bullying you?" Adam continued. "Why was that so bad?"

Chase rolled his lower lip between his teeth. He looked at each of them in turn, his cheeks beginning to flush. Turning his attention to his sandwich, he muttered "I wasn't strong enough."

"What?" Bree asked gently.

"I fell apart, okay?"

"Why?"

Chase glared at her before returning his gaze to the sandwich again. "He said some mean stuff."

"Chase, he's said mean things to you before – he says mean stuff to everyone," Leo said.

"So it wasn't just him!" Chase exploded. "Everyone else was also saying awful things to me, and you, Adam and Bree, joined them. I couldn't help also thinking of every horrible thing anyone has ever said or done to me, and I got overwhelmed. I couldn't take it anymore, and so to escape, I activated Spike. Happy?"

"You _activated_ Spike?" Bree said breathlessly.

"Yes, yes I did!"

"That must be why he didn't go away," Leo groaned.

"Chase, how could you be so _stupid_?" Bree demanded.

"How could you be so _cruel,_ Bree?" Chase shot back. He threw the sandwich on the plate as he leapt to his feet, turning to storm off.

"Chase," Adam said. "Chase, I'm really sorry."

The youngest bionic froze mid-step, and he slowly turned to face his older brother.

"All those things I said?" he continued. "I don't mean any of them. It's just fun to annoy you, you know?" Adam gave him a half-hearted smile accompanied by a shrug.

"Yeah, you're a great brother, Chase," Leo added.

"I'm sorry too," Bree said emotionally. "We _really_ missed having you around."

Chase blinked back the threatening tears, taking a shaky breath. "You mean it?"

"We all care about you, Chase," Mr. Davenport pitched in. "Don't ever forget that."

Chase swallowed. "I won't," he breathed.

* * *

 **AN: Whoa! Did any of you see that coming? What's going on?**

 **Just when I finally convinced y'all that Chase was dead :P You'll just have to keep reading to find out...**

 **Thank you to anyone and everyone who has ever followed, favorited, or reviewed this story - you all are awesome, and I think you guys are in for a treat as we enter the finale stage of this story!**

 **Unrelated, it's good to note that the world didn't end today. But that status may change, so stay on your toes...**

 **Anywho, stay tuned for Chapter 77!**


	77. Chapter 77

"Are you sure you're up to going to school today?"

"Yes, I swear, I'm not concussed. That was just a rough come-back – I had trouble remembering things and didn't realize that my name wasn't Spike. _That's it._ "

Tasha crossed her arms. "Are you sure you weren't _also_ concussed?"

"Yes," Chase rolled his eyes. "It's just a commando app thing."

Tasha sighed, shaking her head. "I will never understand bionics."

Chase smiled sympathetically. "Thanks for checking, Tasha."

"I will always check," Tasha returned the smile, rubbing his shoulder for a moment. "Now go – catch up to your siblings."

Chase nodded curtly before spinning on his heel and running to make up the distance between his brothers and sister. Pounding to a walk once he was at their sides, he adjusted his backpack and fixed his floppy hair. It annoyed him that Spike had let his hair grow out so that instead of sticking up the way Chase wanted it to, it fell flat in his face. He'd had to gel it to the side like he used to just to keep it from tickling his eyebrows. He would definitely need a haircut.

"Ready for school?" Bree asked him.

Chase sucked in a breath. "I don't know. It'll be weird."

"Eh, you're weird, so it'll be fine," Leo joked.

Chase gave him a look.

"Relax," Adam said, bumping into his brother's shoulder. "We'll look out for you."

"Thanks," Chase said, his eyebrows rising a little. He was still getting used to how nice Adam was being. How kind _all_ of them were being.

Half an hour later, they were walking up to the school. The large, cement building Chase had begged to be in a year ago – more, actually. He had since learned that while it held the treasures of knowledge, it was plagued by terrors. He was expecting that day to be one of them. Chase glanced around, his chest filling with dread. _Here goes nothing._

His siblings flanking him, they passed through the doors. The other kids in the hallway seemed to sense his presence, and the youngest bionic found that many eyes were on him. Many cold eyes.

The four were stopped by Principal Perry, who singled out Chase immediately. "You've got a lot of nerve coming back here today, squatmug."

"Principal Perry, what are you talking about?" Bree stepped in with an innocent smile plastered on her face.

"I'm talking about how this little bucking bronco bucked half of his rugby teammates into the hospital and broke the jaw of a Welkerville kid," Perry snapped, jabbing her finger into Chase's chest. He shrunk back.

"Come again?" Leo asked, wide-eyed.

"None of them are seriously hurt, are they?" Bree asked worriedly.

"Mostly stitches and fractured bones. A minor concussion. One kid did end up with a badly broken arm, though." Perry squinted a glare at the youngest bionic. "Nobody hurts my rugby players, even if the season is over because of you. I should expel you."

"No, please, Principal Perry. It won't happen again, I promise! I'll do community service, I'll tutor, I'll do anything – please don't expel me," Chase pleaded.

Perry frowned with confusion. "Something's not right here… but if I expel you, that's one less insecure kid for me to torture. Detention everyday after school for the rest of the school year, and you need to give two hours of community service every weekend until school's out. I'm calling your parents."

Chase sighed as Perry stalked off, and he glanced at his siblings.

"What did Spike _do_ Friday night?" Leo wondered.

"I have no idea, but I have a feeling I'm going to find out," Chase breathed.

* * *

"Yo Davenport, what the heck is wrong with you?"

Chase turned from his locker to find himself cornered by Trent and a couple of other boys. He noticed that the bully was wearing long sleeves even though it was quite warm that day.

"Friday night? Not cool, hothead. You cost us the game and beat up your own team – I think it's time you got what you deserve," Trent growled.

Chase wet his mouth. "Trent, I'm sorry about that."

Trent blinked, studying the younger boy. His face cleared with anger masked by nasty mirth. "Oh, this is good. This is real good. Have anything to explain, _Spike_?"

Chase had a feeling he was being trapped, but he answered honestly anyways. "I'm not Spike."

"Then who are you?"

The youngest bionic closed his eyes, blowing out a breath. "I'm Chase. Chase Davenport."

Trent leered. "You hear that, boys? He's not Spike anymore. I told you that there was something wrong with this kid. Why don't we help him figure out who he really is?"

"I know who he is," a voice growled, and Adam shoved his way into the ring. "He's my little bro, so back off." The oldest bionic's eyes flashed with fury on his brother's behalf.

The other four guys met eyes, looking around to see teachers watching them, some gravitating towards them. Trent turned back to Adam with a glower before turning on Chase, saying, "This isn't over, twerp." The four of them shoved past and melted into the hallway traffic.

Chase leaned against his locker, blowing out a breath. "Everyone hates me."

"That's weird, because a lot of these people mostly liked Spike. Until now, that is," Adam observed.

"Yeah, well now they want to kill him, and that's not good for me."

"Nope," Adam patted him on the shoulder. "I'll look out for you, buddy."

"Thanks Adam." Chase forced the corners of his lips to turn upwards. "But you can't fight my battles for me – not all of them, at least. This is my mess, and I have to be the one to clean it up."


	78. Chapter 78

"Chase, I think that girl over there is staring at you," Adam commented, nodding at the other side of the hallway. Since the Trent incident from earlier that morning, Chase's siblings had been sticking close to him. The likelihood of their brother being pulverized was unusually high.

Chase glanced over his shoulder. "What girl?" He turned back to face his siblings.

"She looked away now," Adam shrugged.

Bree's face was chalk. "That's Paige. She doesn't look happy."

Chase looked back over his shoulder again. He didn't know which girl he was supposed to be seeing. "Who's Paige? And is she mad at me too?"

"She doesn't look mad, exactly…" Bree elaborated with a cautious color to her tone. Chase looked to his sister to see that she was studying him, troubled.

They were interrupted by a boy coming up behind Chase. "Hey Spike, is what the guys are saying about the other night true? Don't tell me that it's that serious!"

Chase turned to face the speaker. He looked to be a rising prep, casually leaning against the lockers next to Chase's. It was easy to see that he was a jock through and through.

"From what I've heard, I'm glad I went straight home after the game you ruined. I can't believe you would do that to us – I didn't think you hated us that much."

"I'm not Spike, I'm Chase," the youngest bionic told him awkwardly.

The other boy's face twisted with surprise and bewilderment. "What are you talking about? And what's with your voice? C'mon man, quit pulling my leg."

Chase's siblings glanced at each other. "I'm not joking," Chase said quietly. "I'm Chase."

The boy blinked. "What? What do you mean?"

Chase shifted uncomfortably, thinking fast. "I... I have D.I.D. Dissociative identity disorder, also known as multiple personality disorder. Spike is… my other personality."

The boy balked, opening and closing his mouth. "I've got to go." He spun on his heel and darted down the hallway.

"Who was that?" Leo asked. Chase shrugged in response.

"D.I.D.?" Bree looked to the youngest bionic.

Chase shrugged again. "It's the only plausible explanation I can come up with to keep our bionics covered."

Leo ducked his head for a second. "Are you sure it's not actually that? Could the app just be a cover for it?"

"No," Chase growled. "An app is all it is and all it was, and all it will ever be."

"Chill, Chase, it's okay." Adam put his hand on his brother's shoulder.

Chase heaved a sigh. "I'm just really tired already – I have been since I've been back – and everyone being mad at me is grating on my nerves."

"Do you want to go home?" Bree asked gently.

Chase shook his head. "I might as well get this over with now. The sooner I do, the sooner it will blow over."

"But you said you're not feeling well," Leo reminded him.

"Will I ever feel well again after Spike being out that long? I can't just sit around and wait to find out. I'll be fine, guys."

"Chase." Bree gave him a sad look.

"I'm not going to run and hide, Bree. I'm going to face this and fix it."

"Good luck with the last part," Leo said wryly.

* * *

"Hey Spi- uh, Chase."

The Davenports and Dooley looked up in trepidation as the prep-jock boy sat down at their table next to Chase.

"You're serious about this disorder?"

Chase nodded after a moment, staring at the food he chewed so absentmindedly.

"Are you anything like Spike?"

Adam, Bree, and Leo all snorted, Bree saying "Ha! They are absolutely nothing alike. If you're looking for Spike, you won't find him in Chase."

The boy fought his falling facial features, turning to study Chase. "Don't you remember anything? Rugby, the team? Me?"

Chase didn't look up from his tray, simply shaking his head 'no'.

The boy's breath hitched, but he pressed further. "Come on, we were wingmen together! You and me, the dynamic duo – friends, as good as brothers! You don't remember any of this?"

The other three looked on with fascination. Chase swallowed. "I'm sorry."

The boy stared at him for a long, silent moment before he set his elbows on the table and buried his head in his hands. "Oh gosh." His fingers ran through his wavy blonde hair. "Oh gosh."

Suddenly he was on his feet, stuttering "I've got- I've got-" He stopped and plopped back down, rubbing his temple. "I don't know-" He stopped again, shooting to his feet. His mouth opened and closed several times before he sat back down. "I don't know what to do."

"I'm sorry," Chase said again.

The boy heaved a large, shaky sigh. "Look, I know you're not Spike, but if you have anything to do with him, you've got to be a pretty cool guy too. Maybe we can be friends?"

Chase's siblings shared a look. Chase blinked in surprise. "Uh, yeah, sure."

The boy forced a smile, clapping his arm around Chase's shoulders. "We'll work through this." Chase shied away from the physical contact, and the boy picked up on it, turning red and hastily taking his arm back. "Sorry," he muttered. "I forgot that we're not to that point yet. Spike and I – well, you know." He turned an even darker shade of red.

"It's fine," Chase tried to wave him off. It didn't help how disconcerted the boy was, because he stood up to leave again.

"We'll figure this out," he said, turning away.

"Wait," Chase stopped him.

The boy looked back at him hopefully.

"I didn't catch your name."

The boy's face saddened. "Carter. My name's Carter."


	79. Chapter 79

"Hey Davenport!"

Chase turned in time to be slammed against his own locker, staring into the loathing green eyes that pierced him. Adam, Bree, and Leo made to intercede, but Chase shook his head at them. The eyes of the boy who held him narrowed.

"You've got a lot of guts to have pulled the stunt you did on Friday – and then to come back here," the boy snarled, pressing Chase harder. The bionic noticed that he was being held by the left hand of the kid, the right locked in the L position by a thick blue cast. "Didn't I make you a promise?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," Chase replied weakly. He got shoved even harder.

"Don't play that game with me! You tried to _rape_ my sister, and now you're going to pay!"

The youngest bionic's face drained of all color, and he saw similar expressions on his siblings' faces. "I really don't know what's going on, I'm so sorry about what Spike did, I- I don't-"

"Stop blubbering! I don't care!" the boy roared.

"Nick, stop it," a girl said from behind him, trying to pull him away. He shook her off with a growl and kept his attention focused on the bionic. She continued, "I told you, he didn't go that far!"

"He went far enough – and with the way he was, he was going to go further," Nick snapped. He pressed Chase even harder.

"Look, I don't know what Spike did, but whatever he did, I'm really sorry about it – I never meant for anything like that to happen," Chase said as soothingly as he could manage with his strangled voice.

The girl stared at him with confusion, and Nick's lip lifted into a snarl. "I don't know what you're playing at, but it's not cool. There's something clearly wrong with you."

"Nick," a boy stepped up, grabbing Nick's shoulder. Carter. "It's a disorder."

Chase blinked, gulping as he looked right into Nick's furious eyes. Behind them the gears were turning. "I have dissociative identity disorder," Chase grudgingly elaborated.

"Spike's his… other personality," Carter finished.

Nick looked between them, his expression conflicted. Finally he faced Chase again. "I don't care what it is, you come anywhere near my family again and I will destroy you. Get better meds, Davenport." He whirled around and stormed off, allowing Chase to relax back against the lockers. The girl lingered only for a moment before she ducked into the flow of students moving past.

Carter studied the youngest bionic, breaking his stare only by glancing over Chase's siblings. "You – er, Spike, didn't really- wasn't really going to rape someone, was he?"

Chase wiped a hand down his face. "I don't know. He is animalistic and out of control, so I guess it's not out of his programming. Out of his, uh, capacity, I mean."

Carter frowned. "You know, I hadn't seen that side of him until Friday. Yeah, he's rough and can be a jerk sometimes, but I didn't think he was like _that_."

Chase stared at him with incredulity, and he looked to his siblings for confirmation.

"Spike calmed down after the first few days, and he was actually halfway decent. Sometimes," Leo admitted.

"What got him so worked up on Friday, then? I mean, we all missed Matic, but I didn't think he thought it was that big of a deal," Carter said.

"What happened to him?" Adam asked.

"He had to go home, to his country. He finished his credits for the end of the trimester last week, and they sent him back. He had academic stuff back in Slovenia, so it was earlier than it usually is," Carter told them.

"Spike was pretty good friends with Matic," Bree noted.

"I know," Carter sighed. "We all thought he was pretty cool. We needed him on Friday."

Chase chewed his lip. "I can't imagine Spike being attached to anyone or anything."

Carter's eyebrows flew high. "He said the opposite on Friday, but it was clear that he cared about rugby – until then, at least. I thought he cared about us."

"Was there anything else that day?" Chase asked. Carter shrugged, but Adam, Bree, and Leo all looked uncomfortable. "Guys?"

"Last Friday was your birthday, Chase," Bree said quietly.

"We were all pretty upset with him," Leo confessed.

Carter looked between the four of them.

Chase's expression grew unreadable. "Carter, can I just talk to my siblings right now?"

Carter nodded, extracting himself from the group. When he was well out of earshot, Chase turned to his siblings. "Why were you upset with him? How much did you guys fight?"

Adam and Leo shifted uncomfortably. Bree rolled her lower lip between her teeth. "He said that you fought to get free. Several times. When he came out of that seizure and said he'd finally killed you, we believed him," Leo said quietly.

"Did you fight with him?" Chase pressed.

Adam looked down at his feet. "We kicked him out of the family. Well, Davenport and Tasha didn't have a say, but Leo and I told him that we basically hated him and never wanted him around in the first place."

"I didn't step in," Bree said despondently.

"That's why you said I wasn't your brother," Chase realized.

Adam turned away with head hanging, walking down the hallway. Bree turned to face Chase. "Friday was a mistake – Spike's not the only one with regrets."

"Did you really try to break loose? From Spike?" Leo asked.

Chase shook his head. "I don't know. If I did, I can't remember it."

"Maybe Spike lied about that too," Leo shrugged.

"What else did he lie about?" Chase asked.

Leo blinked. "Wait, I forgot, you actually did activate him. He said that you did, but we didn't think he was telling the truth."

"I wonder what else he'd been honest about, if only we'd listened," Bree breathed.

"You don't think he was honest about killing me? Because here I am," Chase said with raised eyebrows.

"No, but that means we believed all the wrong things," Bree looked between Leo and Chase. "I don't know what to believe about him anymore."


	80. Chapter 80

Chase slumped in the bar stool at the cyber-desk in the lab. He was alone, and normally he would relish the quiet to do his homework, but the day had not been normal.

Even before the horrid detention hours he'd spent with Perry, he'd been exhausted. Exhausted from _being_ again, exhausted from the day's events, exhausted from having to fight a nasty temper all day. He was actually fairly proud of not allowing it to show, but at that point he wanted to break something, to relieve the pressure.

He felt like Spike must have.

But from the way things sounded, the commando app surely must have felt worse than Chase's petty tiredness and unexplainable temper.

Spike had done something awful, and Chase had to clean up the mess. Like usual. But unlike usual, people had liked Spike before the incident. Now they didn't know whether they hated him or not, and Chase was caught up in the confusion. The more he found out, the more Chase didn't know what he thought about the app.

 _I need to know the truth._

He knew one thing already – Spike had changed up his wardrobe. The app had clearly despised Chase's choices of polo t-shirts, flannel, skinny jeans, etc. He'd opted for athletic shorts or khaki shorts, and solid-colored crew-cut t-shirts, more often than not the athletic kind. He seemed to have worn a Marines baseball hat often. It had been quite a chore for the bionic to reset his capsule.

He ran his fingers through his comfortably short and spiky bangs. His bangs had added enough annoyances throughout the day that after detention, Chase had promptly gone and gotten his hair cut. Now it was the way he preferred.

Chase looked down at his hands, studying them. They had new calluses on them, calluses that looked like Adam's. Spike had been using weights. The bionic had realized this when he'd noticed that he seemed to have bulked up a little bit, being that his flannel shirts were a tighter fit on him, and it was an odd realization. Spike had been clearly working out, and knowing the way his bionics were, the app must have put a lot of time and effort into it. Chase had a hard time visualizing himself bench-pressing the way Adam did, but it wasn't as if he wasn't pleased with the results.

Chase grabbed his phone, sliding the bar to unlock it. It had occurred to him that Spike's tech history would also give clues about what the app was really like, so he began scrolling through messages. Chase frowned as he read through Spike's texting with Paige – hers was the most recent and contained the most messages. The bionic didn't understand a lot of the conversations, but the parts he could guess at were funny and… kind of sweet. Had Spike been _dating_ her? Did that mean that Chase was supposed to be in a relationship with her?

Chase stared at the screen, lost in thought. He felt responsible for what had happened, and it was starting to eat at him. He should apologize to her.

He tapped out his greeting and sent it, his heart pounding with anxiety. —Hey—

He scrolled through more of the messages for several long minutes before his phone buzzed with a message. Paige's response. —Just because I kept my brother from beating you up today doesnt mean that things are ok between us. I dont know what was up with you today, and I'm not sure I want to find out. Your lucky my mom doesnt press charges for breaking my brothers arm and what you did to me. Stay away from me—

Chase buried his face in his hands. His life had become an utter mess.

When he had recovered control over his emotions, he exited out of Paige's messages and looked through others. Some with this Matic kid, but they were short and mostly business. Matic. Some foreign exchange student, from Slovakia, or Slovenia maybe. He hadn't even known the kid was at Mission Creek before Carter had talked about him.

At the thought of Carter, Chase moved onto conversations with him. They seemed nonsensical and full of threats, but all for the sake of humor. Chase frowned at some of the things Spike had sent, trying to fight back a smirk. Was the commando app actually friendly and… funny?

Chase exited out of the messaging. A strange thought struck him – would Spike have taken any pictures? The bionic tapped on the icon, and it opened to a picture he didn't recognize – a girl making a silly face with Spike's playfully scowling face next to hers.

 _That must be Paige._

Chase scrolled through others, seeing both nice pictures and goofy pictures of himself and Paige. There were a couple pictures of the rugby team members and of Spike with them as well, and even one of a sweaty Spike flexing in front of the bathroom mirror with a sly smile on his lips.

Chase's eyebrows rose at the last one, the bionic almost laughing at it. Despite that it was kind of, technically (maybe?) himself, and he would have never taken pictures like that and didn't want pictures of himself like that, it seemed to reveal a lot about the app and give him… a depth Chase hadn't foreseen. It almost made Spike seem… likable.

Spike had a life, and Chase didn't know how he felt about that.

* * *

Chase swayed from foot to foot in front of where the kitchen countertop met the wall, staring at the pictures it displayed. He recognized all but one.

"What's this from? I don't remember it," Chase commented, picking it up and showing Adam, who paused from setting up their video games.

"Oh, that was taken on my birthday," Adam grinned.

"I missed that, didn't I?" Chase mumbled, squinting at the photo. The family was posed with a partially cut cake, Adam in the center, grinning to show off a pair of obnoxious fake teeth. "Why are you wearing those fake teeth?"

"Spike gave them to me. It was an inside joke," Adam explained.

Chase blinked, finding his own face. It wasn't really smiling. Spike seemed strained, distant. He looked up from the photograph and set it back where it belonged. "Happy belated birthday, Adam."

"Oh, thanks," Adam replied with surprise. "Can I play music while we play?"

"Uh, sure," Chase shrugged. They usually didn't; why Adam wanted to was beyond Chase, but he wasn't about to object. He sat down on the couch and took a controller, watching his brother get it set up.

A rock song began playing out of a portable speaker in front of the TV, and Adam sat down next to his younger brother, clicking through levels to the one they wanted to play.

"Wow, you've made a lot of progress," Chase observed.

Adam glanced at him. "Spike's actually really good at video games. He was fun to hang out with when we weren't mad at him."

Chase frowned, keeping his eyes fixed on the TV screen. "You just played video games with him?"

"No, he and I threw around a rugby ball sometimes too. One time it went off the cliff, and he and I climbed down to get it. He was really mad when he found out that we could have just walked down a road to go get it." A smile lifted Adam's spirits a little more at the memory.

"You guys actually climbed that cliff? You could have died!"

"You too," Adam shrugged. "Spike really wanted that ball. You know what actually almost got you guys killed? When he was shot during a mission." Adam's face fell serious, but then lightened again. "We lied to his team and told them that he couldn't play because a shark bit him. In the armpit!"

Adam broke into laughter at saying that, but Chase's facial features screwed into bewilderment and horror. "I was shot?!"

Adam's laughter died. "Yeah, Spike saved my life and put himself in danger. The guy missed your heart, though."

Chase lifted up his shirt to see that there was, in fact, a thick red scar a few inches away from where his heart beat beneath the skin, muscle, and bone.

"I thought you guys were going to die," Adam murmured. "Actually, we thought you were already dead, and then Spike was going to die too. He didn't, but he almost killed himself playing rugby a few days later."

Chase smacked his forehead. "Gosh, he's an idiot."

Adam smirked at that.

The two of them turned their full attention to what was on the TV screen, the buttons on their controllers failing to keep time with the song that was playing. Hearing some of the lyrics, Chase gave a little of his focus to it. What he heard further disturbed his preconception of the commando app - he assumed that was who had shown Adam.

 _"I wanna heal, I wanna feel what I thought was never real. I wanna let go of the pain I've felt so long. I wanna heal, I wanna feel like I'm close to something real. I wanna find something I've wanted all along – somewhere I belong."_ [20]

"Did Spike show you this song?" Chase asked in confirmation.

"Hm?" Adam grunted.

"This song – did Spike show it to you?"

"Oh, yeah. He likes a lot of good songs. What makes them better is that Bree doesn't really like them."

 _I'm not sure I like them either,_ Chase thought to himself. His teeth squeezed his tongue as he absentmindedly moved his virtual character through its virtual world, lost in thought.

 _I don't think these words are a coincidence. Did Spike really feel this way? I guess I wouldn't blame him… did he ever really belong?_

 _Do_ I _even belong anymore?_

* * *

[20] _Somewhere I Belong_ by Linkin Park.


	81. Chapter 81

"Um, Paige, right?"

The girl turned to face Chase, and when she saw him, she started. "What did I tell you? Just stay away from me." She turned to shut her locker when Chase grabbed her arm. "Let go of me!"

"I'm not going to hurt you," Chase pleaded, and she stopped fighting, staring into his eyes. "I don't know what Spike did to you, but I'm really sorry about it."

She shook her head, her eyes wide with trepidation. "What's going on? You sounded weird and said weird things yesterday too."

"I have dissociative identity disorder. I'm not Spike, I'm Chase."

She shook her head again. "No, you're just playing games with me. Get away from me, freak!" She ripped her arm free and stormed down the hallway.

"No, I'm not playing games!" Chase argued, following after her. "Spike really messed up on Friday, and I'm trying fix things. Please!"

She whirled around. "Tell me about this disorder." Her eyes were demanding, fighting back her emotions. Chase withered a little, but he led her out of the thick of the students.

"I'm Chase Davenport, and my alternate personality is Spike. He usually breaks out when I get really upset, and I don't know how I come back." Chase licked his lips, glancing around before continuing. "He's never stayed out so long, but I guess he was so out of sorts on Friday that… I don't know. And now here I am, I don't know what's going on or how to put my life back together, and I'm just trying not to hurt anyone else." He hadn't meant to share so much, but her searching eyes seemed to draw the words right out of him.

Paige studied him for a long moment. "You're name is actually Chase?"

Chase nodded.

She closed her eyes, breathing, "That's what he meant."

"What did he say?" Chase pressed.

"That it was your birthday. He was really upset about it."

Chase nodded, ducking his head. "Yeah."

Paige heaved a shaky breath. "Look, I have to get to class."

"Wait," Chase stopped her. "I have one other question: Were you in a… _relationship_ with Spike?"

Paige blinked, blowing out a breath. "We were, until Friday."

"What happened on Friday, exactly?"

She stared at him for a moment. "You – he tried to kiss me. He has before, but I felt like he was moving too fast. Well, on Friday, he got upset that I didn't let him, and he got violent. I thought he was going to go further and try to… try to-" She stopped, her cheeks burning.

"Rape you," Chase finished, his own face burning. She looked down, and he did too. "I'm so, so sorry," Chase gulped. "I try to keep him back, I try to keep in control so things like this don't happen."

Paige's gaze shot up. "The thing is, I didn't see it coming – he was such a funny and sweet guy, and I really did like him. I felt… safe with him until then. If he hadn't ever come out…."

Chase shoved his hands in his pockets.

She examined him. "You don't have feelings for me too, do you?"

Chase met her eyes, hesitating a moment. Then he lightly shook his head. "No," he croaked. "I don't. You're really nice, and, uh, pretty and all, but, I just- I just don't feel that way about you." He huffed a soft laugh of loathing at the situation. "I don't even really know you."

Paige nodded, blinking back tears. "It was nice meeting you, Chase." She turned away and melted into the stream of students, leaving Chase to blow out a breath of hurt on her behalf.

* * *

"You don't know how long I've wanted to punch you, _Spike_ ," Trent growled, hooking his arm under to nail Chase in the gut again. Trent's cronies held the younger boy's limbs in place, allowing him to only squirm in protest. "Ever since you socked me, my reputation has been in pieces, and it hasn't been easy to put back together. Especially with you being on the rugby team too. But you've seemed to have lost your spunk, so now you're a lot easier to take care of."

Chase shouted through Steve's hand, but his voice was effectively muffled. He tried biting the older boy's fingers again, but it did nothing but make him wince. No one could help him there in the janitor's closet.

"We've never had a chance at state with the football team, but we were going there in rugby – and you screwed it up! You screwed it all up! You were the biggest mistake Matic ever made."

Chase cringed as he took another hit to the gut. He stared at the shelf behind Trent, trying to use his telekinesis to send it crashing down on the older boy. Once again, he had no luck. Since coming back, his bionics seemed almost… disconnected. He couldn't quite make them work.

He groaned as he took yet another hit to the stomach. He had a choice – let Spike back, or take the abuse. Trent wanted Spike, and Spike was the one who could get the youngest bionic out of this mess. But he wasn't going to let the app take over, not after what he'd already done. So Chase closed his eyes and bit back a moan.

"Come on, Davenport! Meet me like a man!" Trent bellowed.

Chase tried to rip his arms and legs free, but he was stopped by the two much-larger boys that held him back. Height and weight were against him, and it wasn't like Chase had super strength. He bucked several times, but it did nothing.

"You're nothing but a little coward!"

Before Trent could continue, the closet door burst open, Adam storming in. He grabbed Trent around the shirt collar and practically threw him out of the closet with a roar. With a murderous look from the oldest bionic, the other two guys dropped Chase and scrambled out of the closet. Chase bent over, supporting himself on the wall.

Bree and Leo popped into the room, their eyes wide with horror. "Chase! What happened?" Bree asked him, rushing to him and guiding him to stand up straight.

"Trent," Chase gulped, swallowing back his rising nausea. "Trent wants to beat up Spike. So he took me and tried to draw him out."

"How did you keep Spike back?" Leo asked, wide-eyed.

"For one, the app wasn't trying to activate. And then Adam's prepared me well." Chase shot his older brother a grateful look. The older boy nodded sadly.

"Come on, let's get you to class, out of the danger zone," Bree tried to joke, but even she didn't think it was very funny. She wrapped her arm around his shoulders and led him out of the closet, Adam grabbing Chase's book bag. Leo trailed behind.

The four of them arrived at Chase's Advanced Calculus II class, the youngest bionic hissing as he sunk into his seat. Adam set his bag at his feet, and the oldest, Bree, and Leo all stared at Chase. Chase avoided their eyes.

"We can't follow you everywhere – you're lucky Adam heard Trent's shouting," Bree said softly.

Chase rubbed his face. "I've just got to wait this out – people's anger should blow over soon, right?"

"Isn't it just Trent and that Nick guy now?" Leo asked.

"Yeah," Chase relented. "If I stay away from Nick and his sister, I'll be fine. But Trent…."

"We'll show that guy who's boss," Leo said confidently, punching his palm. Chase spared him a small smile at that. When the other three had trickled out of the room, he let out his breath and buried his face in his arms. Class didn't start for another ten minutes.

"Chase, are you alright?"

Chase looked up to meet his teacher's searching gaze. "Yes, sir."

Mr. Hoffman stood from his desk and came to stand in front of the bionic. "How are you doing?"

"What do you mean?"

"Spike struggled, and it looks like you are too. D.I.D. It's a tricky thing."

Chase blinked. "How did you know?"

"It's not hard to see if you know what to look for, even if Spike was adamant that that wasn't what it was."

"What did he say it was?"

"He never did."

Chase let out a small breath of relief. "I'm sorry if he was ever… rude. Mean. A bad student. I try to keep in control."

"Don't be," Mr. Hoffman said with a crinkly smile. He leaned against his desk. "He's a good kid, if a little temperamental. You're a good kid all around."

Chase blinked again. "What?"

The wizened teacher shrugged his shoulders. "He visited me often, and he listened to this old man ramble about his time in the military. He seemed really interested in it."

"I'm glad he didn't run away to the military."

Mr. Hoffman chuckled. "Me too. You have a lot of potential, and I wouldn't want to see that cut short on the battlefield."

Chase knuckled his eyes. _We wouldn't make it that far._

* * *

 **AN: Well, thoughts so far? I can't say I'd really expect many reviews today of all days, considering that a bunch of y'all are probably with friends and/or family ;) Thanks for all the support through favorites, follows, and reviews, enjoy the turkey, and have a wonderful Thanksgiving!**

 **Keep an eye out for Chapter 82!**


	82. Chapter 82

"Hey, you tell that bumbling brother of yours to stay out of this," Trent growled, dragging Chase around to face him in the hall.

"Get away from me, Trent," Chase snarled. He'd taken enough of the senior's guff for one day. He tried to rip his shoulder free, but he was yanked back.

"We're not finished here." Trent nodded to the guys who flanked him, and he was shoved into the nearest lockers so that he was pinned. "Stop playing Chase, I want to face Spike."

"Spike could kick your butt – you really want to beat on him?" Chase retorted.

Trent nodded in acknowledgment. "It's true that you're more fun to pulverize as a wimp, and I don't risk anything, but right now my score needs to be settled with the monster. Stop hiding behind _did_ [21] whatever and face me!"

"Back off, Trent!" a shout called down the hallway.

The bully turned to see that the speaker was among a handful of boys stalking up to him. The tall one with the black eye had spoken, and he wore a scowl.

"He's the one who gave you that shiner, Henry. He's the one who let your ribs get cracked, Jem. He's the one who broke Nick's arm. He did this to all of you! And he cost us a chance at state. Not to mention Nick's sister…" Trent leered at their conflicted flashes of anger.

Carter stepped forward. "It's a mental disorder, Trent – even if Spike had a horrible day last Friday and took it out on us, we can't condemn him for it. While that doesn't make what he did okay, he's one of us."

Chase glanced down guiltily. The disorder lie was somewhat close to the truth, but these other guys were taking it too easy on him. Spike deserved to be held accountable for his actions. The bionic looked up to watch the small crowd of kids gathering, his siblings shifting nervously among them.

"Anyhow, it's not your place to beat him up," the shiner, Henry, snapped.

"I've got personal reasons too," Trent growled.

"He's one of us, Spike or Chase," Carter retorted. "You go after him, we go after you."

"I'm one of you too."

"Not anymore," the guy next to Henry stepped forward.

Trent barked an angry laugh. "Wow, you pick the freak over me? He's done worse than I have!"

"Matic was right not to tolerate bullying!" Henry shouted. "We're not going to tolerate it either, so _get away from him_!"

Trent snarled at them before turning back to his guys. At the dark nod from their leader, Trent's friends let go of Chase, and the bullies shoved out of the ring of students that began to disperse. The rugby guys stepped up to Chase.

"Guys, this is Chase," Carter introduced the youngest bionic, who shrunk back a little.

"He really doesn't remember us?" one of the guys asked.

"I'm Henry," Henry said, stepping forward.

The boy next to him, who had spoken up earlier, pointed to himself saying, "I'm Jem."

The guy who had asked swallowed and said, "I'm Asher."

The rest of the present team members introduced themselves, studying Chase the whole time. Chase shifted uncomfortably. When they finished, Chase gave them a curt nod, and a "Nice to meet you all."

"Are you like Spike at all?" Jem asked.

"I like to think that I'm not."

Carter looked around the group. "He's not."

It was clear that the group didn't know what to think about that, and they shared glances at each other.

"You know, when we were talking about you going by Chase a while back, I didn't buy a word Trent said about you being a nerd and a wimp. Now I don't think he's crazy anymore," Jem commented teasingly. The other guys forced a chuckle, and even Chase managed to crack a smile.

There was an awkward pause of silence before Henry shifted, clearing his throat. "Since the season's over, our team is starting some pick-up rugby on Thursday nights at the fields. You're welcome to join us."

"Um, I don't know how to play rugby. I doubt I'd be very good," Chase muttered.

"Spike was our star player – I'm sure you've got it in you," one guy, Noah, said. Chase just shook his head.

Shoulders slumped. Henry licked his lips. "Just think about it, 'kay?"

"Yeah, sure," Chase nodded. "Look, I have to get to class…."

"Right." Henry looked over the group. "We all need to get to class." With that the group broke up, and Chase found himself wandering over to his siblings.

"How'd that go?" Bree asked.

"They want me to play rugby with them."

Bree and Leo cracked small smirks, but Adam remained serious. "I think you should," he said with a shrug.

"What?" Chase blinked.

"Spike was good."

"That's what they said. But I'm not Spike."

"Clearly," Leo piped up.

Chase shoved his hands in his pockets. "I don't know what to tell them. I feel like an impostor among them, and they think I'll be like Spike. I'm not. I don't belong on their rugby team, and I don't want to. I don't want to play such a barbaric sport."

Bree snickered. "You already have."

"Shut up," Chase growled. She fell serious. "And then there's Carter – he keeps acting like we're best friends, and he's the one that brought the team around. I'd rather have them despise me and leave me alone then for them to hope that I'll be someone I'm not."

"Why can't 'being Chase' include rugby and those guys?" Bree asked gently.

"I told you, I don't want to play that sport, and those are the kinds of guys that would beat me up!" Chase exploded. "I like calculus and history and chemistry, not rolling around in the mud!"

"Nerd," Leo coughed.

Chase turned on him. "Yeah, I am! I don't belong with those guys!"

"They wouldn't beat you up, Chase," Adam said evenly.

"And Carter seems to actually like hanging out with you," Bree added.

"He like's hanging out with _Spike_ ," Chase said dryly. "He's setting himself up to be disappointed by waiting for Spike to come back."

"Look, Chase, all we're saying is that maybe you don't need to write them off," Leo said.

"I'm not writing them off, I'm being realistic," Chase snapped. He turned to leave them, but Leo's words stopped him.

"What's unrealistic is you thinking you can get your life back exactly as it was before. You can't, Chase. You can't. Things just went too far for that. You were gone for too long."

* * *

[21] Actually D.I.D., but Trent mistakes it for the word "did".


	83. Chapter 83

"Spike, heads up!"

Chase looked up only in time to get a rugby ball to the face.

"Wow, I thought you had better reflexes than that – we'd better practice," Adam grinned, coming to stand over his little brother, who sullenly rubbed his nose.

"Adam, I'm not Spike," Chase snapped, giving his brother a funny look from where he sat on the living room couch.

Adam's face cleared. "Oh – I totally forgot. Sorry Chasey."

"Don't call me that."

"Want to throw around a rugby ball with me anyways?"

"No."

"Come on, not even for a little bit?"

"No, I don't, Adam. Go away."

Adam gave the younger boy a pouty face only for a moment before he lunged forward and dragged his brother up into a headlock. "Come on, let's play!"

"I said _no_ , Adam!" Chase tried to yank his brother's arms from around him, but his efforts proved in vain.

Adam sighed, and he finally let go. "I like you, Chase, but I wish you were more fun like Spike." With that, the oldest plodded out of the room, leaving a ruffled Chase to grit his teeth in frustration. This hadn't even been the first time that day that Adam had forgotten that he wasn't the commando app. Nearly everyone had made the mistake at one point or another over the last couple of days.

Swiping his phone from where it was lodged in the couch cushions, the youngest bionic stalked to the elevator and rode down to the lab. He needed something to do, something to get his mind off of his frustrations. Upon entering the spaceship-like room, he was greeted by Leo.

"Whatcha up to?" Chase asked him disinterestedly.

"New _Pig-Zombie_ gaming headphones were just released, and I'm going to see if I can get a pair," Leo geeked, pointing to the computer screen.

"Hm," Chase nodded, turning away to step into his capsule.

"What are you doing?" Leo asked.

"Training. I'm going to see if I can get my bionics to respond better – they're still a little out of sorts." He pushed out of his capsule, dressed in his training clothes. Dragging out the new dummy they must have gotten in the last three months and grabbing a staff, he set himself into a defensive position.

Staring at his faceless adversary, Chase envisioned the staff leaving his hand and flying forward to whack the dummy over the head, but it only quivered in his hand. _Come on, move!_ he glared down at it.

It seemed to merely laugh at him.

"Rah!" he burst out, chucking it at the dummy. Ricocheting off of the dummy, the staff clattered to the cement floor, further mocking the youngest bionic.

He turned to face Leo, who stared at him wide-eyed. "Spike?" the younger boy squeaked.

"No!" Chase yelled. "No! I'm Chase, dang it!"

"You just, uh, looked a little, uh, Spike-y there for a moment," Leo stuttered.

"Ughhhh," Chase growled, turning away to go retrieve the staff. "We'll see how _Spike-y_ I can get if things keep going the way they are," he muttered to himself.

"Are you alright, Chase?"

Chase turned to his step-brother, letting the tip of the staff drop to the ground in defeat. "No, I'm not." He threw the training weapon back to the floor and slumped into a bar stool. "People keep mistaking me for Spike, and some of them even prefer Spike to me. Actually, a lot of them."

Leo shrugged helplessly.

Chase stared at him. "Do you prefer Spike to me?"

Leo blew out, saying, "Chase, that's not fair. Like I've said before, he could be a real jerk, but if we didn't push him, he could actually be a pretty cool guy. I would trust you more and I like hanging out with you more, but… I don't know."

"Great, you too," Chase grumbled.

"What are you looking to hear, Chase? Do you want people to tell you you're better? Does that make you feel better, knowing that you're more likeable than a commando app?"

Chase's lip lifted into a small snarl of distaste, and he looked away. "I don't want to hear that a commando app is more likeable than _me_."

"But maybe he's not just a commando app."

"Are you kidding me? I'm still cleaning up his mess! No real person would have said and done the things you all told me about."

"There wasn't a mess before Friday. Well, not as big of one. And… I don't think you're right about that – real people can do a lot worse than he did, Chase."

Chase blew out an angry breath. "Fine, so he's not the villain I thought he was – that makes everything much more complicated!"

"You're trying to hate him, aren't you?" Leo studied his brother.

"Wasn't everyone?"

Leo looked down. "We were so focused on getting you back."

"And I'm glad you were, or else I might never have been able to come back."

"But it's not fair – Spike deserves life too. He proved that."

Chase wiped his hand down his face. "Leo, he's an application on my chip. Anything else would be impossible, and giving him a life of his own is even more so. Everyone's just going to have to get over it."

Leo chewed his lip. "What if Big D could make Spike his own body?"

Chase shook his head. "No, I won't allow it!"

"What? Why not? Why would you care?"

"Because he's been in mine too long. And besides, that's impossible too. He's an app."

"I think he's more."

Chase shook his head. "No, he's not."

"You don't believe me."

"No, I don't."

"You don't want to."

Chase glared at him.

Leo sighed. "Look, if you don't believe me, just see for yourself."

"I have. Photos, texts, his friends. I don't care."

It was Leo's turn to glare at him. "Fine, just talk to him."

Chase frowned. "What? I can't."

"But what if we found a way and he proved you wrong?"

"He won't, and we can't."

Leo's eyes lit up. "I think I know a way we can."


	84. Chapter 84

"These can hold Adam, right?"

"Right."

"So they should be able to hold Spike too, right?"

"Right."

Leo looked up from the cuffs he was tightening around Chase's wrists. "I suppose Adam did out-muscle him that one time they fought down here."

"What?"

"We thought they were going to kill each other. Spike didn't want Adam babysitting him at rugby practices."

Chase pursed his lips, looking down at the cuffs that locked his wrists to the arms of Leo's swivel chair. "You're doing my legs too, right?"

"Yup," Leo nodded, the handcuffs clicking in place. He stepped away to dig for the other cuffs from a drawer before returning to snap them into place too.

"What if Spike doesn't let me back?"

Leo stopped, looking up at his brother. "Don't activate him. We'll draw him out."

Chase's eyes widened. "What exactly are you going to do to me?"

Leo waved him off, going back to securing the bionic's legs. "Don't worry about it. As long as Spike's a glitch, he can't stay out forever, right?"

Chase looked away for a moment before watching his step-brother stand and retrieve his phone and set it up on a stand, training the camera on the bionic's face.

"Okay, we're rolling; say what you want to say, Chase."

Chase made a face at Leo. "I don't know what to say, especially when I'm secured down like this and supposed to be talking to my alter-ego of a commando app."

"Just say something," Leo rolled his eyes. "You've had plenty to say on the subject already, why not tell these things to Spike?"

Chase sighed. "Fine." He wet his lips and stared into the camera. And began.

When he'd finished, he rolled his head to give Leo a look, and the younger boy stopped recording. He set up Chase's phone on an adjacent stand and set that to record. "Great – now the difficult part."

"What are you going to do to me?"

"Well, we know that bionic signal interrupters help – a lot."

"But they don't turn me into Spike."

"No, they don't." Leo had grabbed the BSI by then, and he pointed it at the bionic, clicking the button several times. Chase blinked back his disorientation. Setting down the device, Leo grabbed the boxing gloves he'd stashed behind the cyber-desk out of Chase's line of sight.

Chase eyed them warily. "Don't go overkill, alright? I don't care to talk to a crazed maniac."

Leo sucked on his lip. "You know, he was getting to be so tame that I forgot that he could be like that. After the first few days, he went from destructive and violent and crazy to just mean and scary."

"Well, there's a reason for these handcuffs. Don't forget _that_."

"Right." Leo approached Chase, and cocking back with a cringe, he let his fist fly forward. It collided with the bionic's stomach with a dull _thump_.

"That all you've got?" Chase asked with an eyebrow raised.

Leo shrugged helplessly. "I don't want to hurt you. It might help if you make a Spike scowl – a growl would be good too. Maybe then I can imagine that I'm punching Spike after he beat me up when I made him fall out of a tree."

"What!"

"Just do it."

Chase squinted at the younger boy before complying. His features screwed up into an attempt at vicious, and a small growl gurgled in his throat.

"Come on, Chase, you have to try harder than that – I've seen your impressions before."

With a sigh, Chase closed his eyes a moment. He snapped them open and his expression morphed into a menacing snarl, a rumble rolling deep in his chest.

Leo gulped. "Okay, you're not actually Spike, are you?"

"Why don't you just beat me up already, numbskull," the youngest bionic snapped in his gravelly voice.

The younger boy stared at the older one for a long moment, reliving the terror of being chased by the commando app, of being beaten to a pulp by him. No, that wasn't working. That was making him nervous.

Chase seemed to sense this, and an idea hit him. He voiced it. "I already killed Chase – what is it to me to kill you too?"

Leo's face cleared with anger. With a yell, his fist swung around to connect with Chase's belly – hard.

The youngest bionic gasped, and his vision went red. "Hey!"

Leo stepped back and shook off his emotion. "Heeey, Spike," he grinned sheepishly.

Spike's eyes met Leo's. After a long moment, he slumped back.

Leo frowned with concern. "Spike? Spike, what's wrong?"

The bionic blinked several times and sat up straight again. "Leo? Did it work?"

Leo sighed at the pitch of his voice. This was Chase. "No, well yes, it did, but Spike deactivated right away."

"What?" Chase's expression rose into bewilderment. "Why would he deactivate – and right away?"

"I don't know," Leo shrugged. "I don't think we need to worry about him staying forever, though."

"You think I should activate him? Can we really take that chance?"

"I don't want to punch you again," Leo shrugged.

Chase winced. "I don't want to be punched again. I'll try it."

"But still, what if he doesn't let you back? Oh wait, I just remembered, if we can't get you back right away, we'll just take your chip out before your system locks down."

"What? That works? Why didn't you do that before?!"

"We didn't know until it was too late! Anyways, just let him out so we can get him talking."

"Alright." The youngest bionic stared at the floor a moment before closing his eyes. When they opened again, he looked around with confusion that began to morph into annoyance.

Seeing this, Leo threw his hands forward and said "Spike! Don't deactivate – Chase is trying to talk to you."

Spike – for it was the commando app – glared up at him. "I don't want to be here. I'm going back."

"Since when don't you like being in control?" Leo asked.

The app froze a moment. "Since I ruined it all. There's nothing left for me here." With that, his eyes rolled back. And then came to focus again.

"Chase?" Leo stared at his brother.

"Did it work this time?" he asked in his higher voice.

"Yeah. You'll have to see the tape. He didn't actually say anything to you, though – he answered my question before he left again. I wanted to ask him more, but he didn't give me the chance," Leo rambled as he stopped the recording. "He didn't watch what you had to say."

The younger boy shoved Chase's phone in his face, letting the bionic watch all that had taken place. Chase frowned at what Spike said. "Yeah, he ruined everything. He didn't say what I thought he'd say."

"What did you think he would say?"

"Something about everyone deserving it and them being lucky he didn't kill them all," Chase shrugged.

"I suppose if you don't know him, you'd think that."

"You weren't surprised? He almost sounded sorry!"

"I told you, he isn't some kind of serial killer or anything."

Chase shook his head. "We're not done with him yet."

"Of course," Leo sighed. He set Chase's phone up again. "Let's go, bionic boy."

Chase squinted, and with focus, he activated his commando app once more. Spike came to, looked around, and growled in frustration. "What do you want with me? Leave me alone, snowflake!"

"Spike, Chase is trying to talk to you – won't you just cooperate and talk with him?"

"Why do any of you want to talk to me?"

"Just listen to Chase," Leo sighed, holding up his phone with Chase's message. Spike's expression grew dark as he watched it.

 _"Spike. I've got a lot I could say to you. Since coming back, I've discovered that everyone hates you and thus me. Well, not my family, but everyone else. Several of your barbaric rugby friends have tried to kill me, and Trent is determined to beat me to a pulp until you come out and let him pulverize you. Your girlfriend? She's hurt and I'm not sure how she feels about you. I think anger is definitely a thing because she's threatened me with legal charges, and her brother hates our guts. Not to mention that my GPA is ruined thanks to your lack of effort. You had super intelligence – why didn't you just get the job done? Did you really have to ruin everything for me? Everything is a mess because of how you screwed over your team and tried to rape Paige. Everything is a mess, and I don't know how to fix it. Thanks a lot."_

"Chase focused on the negatives," Leo put in at the end of the video. "Most of your team forgave you, and as long as you stay away from Paige, everything is good. And who cares about grades? He's just mad because things aren't the way they were before, and he hates being mistaken for you."

Spike glowered up at the younger boy, his eyes murderous. "I don't care what that sniveling pansy thinks, but he was right about one thing: I messed up. If he just wants to whine at me _about_ me, then I don't want to hear it. I don't want to hear anything, actually. If any of you activate me again, I will personally gouge out your heart with a spoon and make you eat it like it's an overripe plum. Got it, pipsqueak?"

Leo gulped, taking a step back. "Those restraints can hold you."

"How much do you want to bet on that?"

"Why don't you want to stay out and fix things?" Leo asked, changing the subject.

Spike's lips lifted into a nasty snarl before he threw his head back and barked a laugh. "And ruin your celebration that I'm gone and as good as dead? I might as well just let you get rid of me for good because none of you cared. Even I don't care now. The only difference it makes if I stay is that your blubbering baby Chase isn't there to tickle your little family feelings. I couldn't fix things. You really think a monster like me could ever fix anything?"

Leo stood where he was, speechless.

"And for the record, I wasn't going to rape Paige. I would never do that, especially to her. But I suppose that's what monsters do. And I am a monster, after all." With that, his glare clouded over and his eyes rolled up.


	85. Chapter 85

Chase sat hunched over on the round bench in the middle of the school hallway, staring down at his interlaced fingers.

 _And ruin your celebration that I'm gone and as good as dead?_

 _I might as well just let you get rid of me for good because none of you cared. Even I don't care now._

 _You really think a monster like me could ever fix anything?_

 _I am a monster, after all._

Spike's words danced through his mind, and they wouldn't leave him alone. After he'd gotten over his initial anger and offense, Chase had begun to sense the distress in those rage-filled words. Did Spike really feel that way? Had he really been that hopeless?

Did he really think he was such a monster?

His last actions certainly painted him as one, but everything up until then… and still, his familiarity with calling himself a monster meant that he'd believed that he was a monster even before that Friday nearly two weeks before. Of course, everyone had thought of him as a monster….

 _No, that's a lie,_ Chase relented. _His rugby team, my family, his girlfriend… they all cared about him. They didn't think he was a monster._

 _Well, they finally saw what he was capable of – what he really was._

 _But did they deserve to see that? They still don't want to believe it._

 _They still don't want to have lost him._

Chase pinched the bridge of his nose. Time had eased the anger, but it had inflamed the sense of loss these people felt. And Chase… _ached_ for them.

Even if he didn't want to.

He looked up to watch a group of boys amble past. Some of them were rugby players. None of them even glanced at him.

"Hey-yuh, Chase," Carter greeted him as he sat down next to the bionic.

Chase didn't look at him. "Why do you still hang around me? Spike might have been cool, but I'm the school nerd – I'll drag down your social status."

Carter blinked several times, and Chase was met with silence.

"Why do you hang around me? I'm not Spike, and I never will be again."

"Never?"

"You're holding out for him, aren't you?"

Carter sighed. "Look, Spike was my friend, and I will admit that I miss him. You're alright too."

"Don't lie to me. You hate me."

"I don't hate you, but I like my friend better."

"Go away, Carter. Stop wasting your time and effort on me. Let yourself move on."

"Spike was never a waste of time, and you don't just move on from a friend."

"Keep telling yourself that."

Carter glowered at the bionic before standing up. "Maybe Spike was a jerk, but you're a heck of a lot worse. Have a nice life, Chase." With those words, the other boy was gone.

Chase gritted his teeth. The feeling in his gut told him that Carter was right.

* * *

Chase sucked in a deep and equally nervous breath. He couldn't believe he was actually doing this.

He adjusted his moisture-absorbent t-shirt and rolled his shoulders, stepping up to the pile of water bottles strewn along the sidelines of the field. He hadn't thought to bring his own.

On the field ran a cluster of guys grappling with each other, all trying to take possession of a ridiculously-shaped ball. The bionic grimaced and jogged out to them when play came to a pause.

When the other boys noticed him, the game was forgotten. They all watched him, and he slowed to a stop just before he reached them.

"Um, hi," Chase said in his impression of Spike.

"Spike?" Henry breathed. Chase nodded.

There was a long moment of silence. Without warning, the bionic was tackled by the other guys, whoops ringing through the air. Chase cringed and attempted not to make faces or squeaky noises at the rough physical contact.

When the team finally let up, they all stood around him. Henry crossed his arms and stared down the shorter boy. "What were you thinking?"

"Uh, the game?" Chase asked in his Spike voice.

"Yeah, and afterwards."

Chase rubbed the back of his neck. "I'm really sorry, guys. I messed up."

"Yeah, no kidding," one of the players snorted.

"And… I wasn't going to hurt Paige," Chase continued.

"Sure seemed like it," another growled.

"Honest." Chase put his hands up.

Henry looked around the group before turning back to face Chase full on. "You done screwed up, Spike, but that's over now. Let's just play some rugby, yeah?"

A chorus of 'yeah's resounded through the team, and they broke up into positions. Chase looked around, unsure of where to go.

"You can be our left wing again – you've proved that you stink at fullback," Jem told him in passing. "It's a good thing you came out because we still don't have enough players to play half-teams. We're just doing offense versus defense."

"Right," Chase nodded. He'd done his research on the game, but he still felt unsure of himself. He settled in his position and looked around. Both Trent and Nick weren't present, and Chase heaved a sigh of relief at that.

Luke called a formation from the back, but Chase didn't know the lingo. His head whipped around as he tried to follow the play, and suddenly several of the guys were yelling the app's name. And then they were calling the end of the play, and a few of them jogged over.

"Spike, why didn't you J-run? We needed you to snatch possession."

As Chase scrounged for an answer, Carter shouldered his way into their circle. "Because he's not Spike. That's Chase."

"I knew it," one of the guys spat.

"No, I'm Spike," Chase said weakly.

Carter glared at him. "No you're not, so stop failing at playing the part and just be your despicable little self. What are you playing at? Is this some kind of joke?"

"No," Chase shrunk back.

"You don't talk like him, you don't walk like him, and you sure as heck aren't like him. So stop making fun of us and get out of here."

"I didn't come here to make fun of you," Chase rose a little. "Everyone seems to miss Spike, so I thought I'd try to make you guys feel a little better."

"Well it didn't work – you made it worse," Carter snapped. "You suck at making people feel better."

Chase withered. "I'll just go."

"That's right."

"No," Jem stopped the bionic, shooting Carter a look. "Chase meant well, and he's out here to play rugby. Let's teach him how to play, then."

"Weren't you the one who stuck up for him?" Luke asked Carter.

"Yeah, when I thought he was a decent guy," Carter bit back.

Jem sighed. "Give him another shot, man. Matic did before, so we should now."

Carter ground his teeth. "Fine."

"Right," Jem nodded. He tossed the ball to Chase, who fumbled it into his arms. "Let's get back out there."

They broke apart, and Henry called from the offensive line, "What took you guys so long?"

"We were just straightening some things out," Jem answered his friend. To the entire offensive line, he called, "Guys, Chase is playing with us today, and we're going to show him what we're about."

Some were surprised, and all eyes were on the bionic. He shifted under their scrutiny. He wasn't sure he wanted to be there, but he didn't see a way out at that point.

"Let's do the impossible," the half-back, Tyler, smirked. "Let's teach a nerd how to play rugby."


	86. Chapter 86

Chase slid his roast beef in little circles around its designated spot on his plate. The prongs of the fork grazed the ceramic surface underneath the meat every so often, but he didn't care much. He wasn't hungry, and he couldn't seem to make himself eat. The rest of his family eyed him between bites, but none of them said anything.

The fork clattered from Chase's hand, and he reached up to knuckle his eyes.

"Chase?" Bree asked.

He took a shaky breath. "I can't do this."

"Can't do what?" Mr. Davenport asked warily.

"I played rugby with Spike's team today." He looked up to meet the concerned gazes of his family. "I tried pretending to be Spike to make them feel better, but it didn't work. It made them feel worse, and it made me feel worse."

"What do you mean?" Tasha asked, missing the somber looks she received from Bree and Leo.

"How happy they were when they thought they were seeing Spike again for the first time in weeks, but then how mad they got when they figured out that it was me…" he shook his head. "I can't justify preventing Spike from living anymore. Seeing how many people care about him, realizing his wants, his reasons, and that he's not what I thought he was…. What reason do I have that makes me more human than him?"

"He's a commando app," Mr. Davenport supplied.

"Does that even matter anymore?" Chase burst out. "He's already proved that he can be more than that."

The others looked around to each other. "What do you want to do?" Leo asked.

"I want to at least talk to him again."

"Well, it didn't go so well last time."

"I know. I wish I could just talk to him face to face."

"That doesn't really work when you're sharing a body," Bree pointed out.

"I know that too," Chase growled, rubbing his eyes again.

Mr. Davenport had been frowning during this exchange, and he put his knuckle to his lips in thought. "Maybe I can make something work."

"He's not getting his own body," Chase said quickly.

"I wouldn't be able to do that anyways – he draws off of your emotions too heavily for him to function without them. Not to mention he was made for the human body, and I can only make synthetic bodies. No, he can't be his own complete person. But I think there is a way I can let you two talk."

"How?"

"Give me a day, and I will have the device that will do the trick."

* * *

"Do you think Davenport will have it done?" Adam asked, bumping into Chase as the four siblings walked home from school.

"I don't know," Chase shrugged. "Chances are, he probably will have it done, because this is Davenport we're talking about."

"Unless he got distracted making money," Bree drawled. The siblings smirked, but Chase's quickly fell away again.

"You're nervous, aren't you?" Leo commented.

"Who, me? Of course not," Chase scoffed.

Bree shot him a look.

"Okay, fine, I am. There's no telling exactly what effect it will have on me – and what if it becomes permanent?"

"Um, we'd just have remove you from the public eye so that you aren't sent to an insane asylum," Leo joked.

"That could happen!" Chase burst anxiously.

"Relax, Chase – I'm sure that whatever Davenport can do, he can undo," Bree assured him.

Adam snorted. "He can't undo his last wax-job – that was just bad."

The others shuddered and nodded in agreement, but Chase remained gloomy. "I just don't know, guys."

"Just don't stress out about it," Leo told him. "I'm sure it will be fine."

"If anything, it will just be disturbing," Bree remarked.

Chase's face scrunched a little. "You guys don't have to be present."

"Are you kidding? I've been looking forward to this all day," Leo grinned. "I'm popping up a bag of popcorn as soon as we get home."

"Ooh! Can we put tomato juice on it? I've always wanted to try that," Adam said excitedly.

It was Leo's turn to scrunch his face. "No, that's gross. Make your own popcorn if you want to do that – I'm not letting you ruin mine."

Adam shrugged. "Alright, but you'll be missing out."

"This isn't some kind of movie – I'm not doing this for your entertainment," Chase said irritably.

"Of course not – we just want to make the most of this scientific endeavor, this working out of differences – why not also make this a great way to spend the afternoon?" Leo said with a sly eyebrow raise.

"You need a better way to spend your afternoon," Chase deadpanned. The four of them stepped through the front doorway of the mansion where they were greeted by Tasha.

"How was school?" she asked as she pulled groceries out of brown paper bags.

"Good."

"Fine."

"Same as usual."

"Couldn't go by any slower."

"Where's Mr. Davenport?" Chase asked.

Tasha didn't look up from the bread she was shoving into a cupboard. "He's been in the lab all day – he's probably still there."

"Has he made any progress?"

"I don't know – I had a report to take care of this morning, and then I went shopping. I only just got home too."

The four teens had gathered about the counter by this time, and Adam snatched the bunch of bananas.

"You're not going to eat all of those right now, mister," Tasha warned.

"Nope, I'll share," Adam winked. He tossed one to Leo and handed another to Bree. He offered one to Chase, but at the look from the younger boy, Adam shrugged and peeled it, taking a large bite. "Fee? Ah faued. Am ah af fem mow?" he tried to say through his banana-clogged mouth.

"What?" Tasha squinted at him. "Don't talk with your mouth full."

The oldest bionic gulped down his fruit before saying again, "I shared – can I have them now?"

Tasha snatched the bunch away from him. "No – you'll be fine eating just one. Moderation is a virtue."

"What's a virtue?"

The others sighed. Chase pulled away from the counter, saying, "I'm going to check on Mr. Davenport's progress."

"I'm coming," Leo piped up, following his step-brother.

"Me too," Adam added.

Bree looked to her step-mother as her brothers exited the room. "I'm not sure I want to see what will happen, but I think I'll go too."

"I wouldn't blame you – I don't want to see it," Tasha assured her. "I'll be staying up here, and you're welcome join me."

Bree looked after where her brothers had disappeared. "No, I think I need to be there for this. If anything, if something goes wrong…."

"I'm sure it'll be fine."

"That's what we've been telling Chase all day. And I can't figure out if I've been lying to him."

Tasha heaved a sigh. "Go, do what you need to do. What will happen will happen."

Bree nodded. "You're right." She set down her unopened banana and after a long look of trepidation, she sped down to the lab.

When she arrived, she saw her younger bionic brother being secured to Leo's swivel chair in front of a mirror by Adam and Leo while Mr. Davenport putzed with a small remote. The flat blue chips at the end flashed as he angled it up to study it at a different angle.

"That's it? That's the device?" Bree asked the mogul as she walked up to him to look around his shoulder.

"Yeah, it doesn't need to be very big to get the job done. What were you expecting, a large machine that shoots lightning?"

"Well, with the way you're tying up Chase…."

Mr. Davenport chuckled. "We'd need bigger restraints for that kind of thing."

Bree shook her head. "Don't tell me you're excited to be experimenting on him."

Mr. Davenport grew serious. "You know that's not why I'm doing this."

"Yeah."

"And it's not experimentation, not really."

"I know."

The two of them looked to the boys. Leo's head rose so that his eyes met theirs, and he gave them a nod. "He's secured."

"No kidding," Chase grumbled. His eyes also met theirs through the mirror he stared into.

"Why do we have to handcuff him again?" Adam asked.

"In case anything… gets out of hand," Mr. Davenport said carefully. He walked up behind Chase, and Bree was close behind. "Chase, I need you to just relax. Just think about what you're going to say to Spike. You'll be fine."

"Right," Chase muttered, drilling his reflection.

Adam and Leo stepped back to stand by Mr. Davenport and Bree. Mr. Davenport brought the remote-looking device to Chase's neck, right over where his chip was embedded. "I don't know if this will hurt, but if you relax, it will be better," the mogul told him. "Are you ready?"

Chase took a deep breath. "Yes, I'm ready."

Mr. Davenport pursed his lips, pressing down the button.


	87. Chapter 87

Chase jerked at the shock, and his eyes squeezed shut. The noises around him seemed to melt away as a presence began to rise up within his mind, bringing a throbbing pain with it. The pain turned into a full blown headache, and Chase felt as if his brain was swelling, swelling, and his skull, too small, shrinking….

The bionic let out a long moan, and his present family members gathered around him. He was unaware of them, however, as he drowned within the pain. There was just too much being forced within his body, and he didn't know how much more he could take before he burst.

"What's going on?" the words slurred from his mouth, but Chase hadn't been the one to command them.

"It worked," he breathed. He opened his eyes, and was almost surprised to see the look of confusion on his own face in the mirror. "It actually woraahhhackll-" Chase stopped. Spike had just choked up their tongue.

"Why is my tongue talking on its own?" Spike asked, and he now spoke with his deep gravelly voice.

"Becauaaack," Chase tried to explain, but he was cut off again. "Spike, itaackurrgl- Spiiiack-" Chase paused in frustration. His tongue began to move with Spike's words, but it was his turn to fight the app. "Let me talk!"

"I don't have anything to say!" Spike burst out, and Chase felt their heart rate pick up pace with Spike's fear that raced through them.

"Not you – I'm Chase, idiot."

"What!"

"Mr. Davenport found a way for us to be out at the same time to talk." Chase tried to keep speaking, but Spike clamped their mouth shut, and in their reflection Chase saw the app's anger marring their expression. He attempted to fight it and wear a more calm expression.

Chase forced their mouth open, spitting out the words, "We need to talk."

"Why? Just so you can whine about me again?"

"No… I was wrong to say those things."

Spike made them swallow. "Not really, even if you were being an annoying pansy about it."

Chase rolled their eyes. "Look, from what I can tell, you were alright before Friday a couple weeks ago. Excludi-"

"-it's been two weeks?"

Chase let out a breath of mild frustration. "Yes. But anyways, other than claiming to have killed me-"

Their mouth was forced shut by the app before he opened it again to say what he had to say. "I did kill you – I don't understand how you're still alive."

"What? What are you talking about?"

"You kept trying to come back, and finally I fought you and shot you. You should be dead."

Chase paused. "I don't know what you're talking about. When you're out, I have no awareness of what's going on."

"But I killed you!"

"Obviously not. It was all in your insane little commando mind."

"Who are you calling little? W-"

"-e share a body."

"Who are you calling insane, then? You're the one who consented to _this_!"

Chase growled. "I bet you enjoyed killing me in your imagination."

"I only killed you then because I wanted to live without you trying to take it back. Now I want to kill you because you're as annoying as a-"

"Stop, I don't want to hear it."

"I'll say what I want, and make you have to hear it!" Spike yelled. "You-"

"St-"

"No-"

"Ye-"

"N-"

"Stop-"

"You st-"

"Guys!" Mr. Davenport commanded, placing his hands on the youngest bionic's shoulders. This was the first time any of the others had interceded.

Spike tried to whip around and punch the mogul, but his hands wouldn't budge – the restraints were too strong.

Chase watched with fascination as his hands clenched of their own accord, and he was a little startled at the cavernous, rumbling growl that rolled deep within his chest. He could feel Spike's irritation at this – growling menacingly didn't really have its desired effect when Chase's expression of confusion and wonder washed over their features.

"Chase, if you say or do anything else, I will rip off your legs and turn them into canoe paddles so I can take a nice, long vacation away from all of you meatheads!" Spike roared. Mr. Davenport scurried back from the shaking bionic.

"You realize they're your legs too, right?" Chase sneered.

"Rahhhr!" Spike burst out in rage. "Just stop! Everyone stop!"

"Stop what?" Chase provoked.

"Stop torturing me like this! If you don't want me around, just kill me already! I don't want to be here!"

Chase's shock made their twisted features fall slack. "I'm talking to you _because_ people want you around."

"What people?"

Chase thought of the rugby scrimmage the day before, and an idea came to him. He relived the way they had tackled him and tried to make it fill their mind. _Are you seeing this?_

When he got no response, Chase asked, "Are you seeing this?"

"Seeing what?"

Chase sighed. "I was trying to share my memories with you."

"Nobody likes it when you share anything, so stop trying."

"Nobody likes it when you insult them, so stop doing it."

"I'm not trying to be liked," Spike snarled.

"Yeah, we could really tell when you messed everything up."

"You've always hated me, and you've always been sure I'd mess things up for you. So why did you even activate me?"

"Because… I couldn't take it anymore. I lost control, I no longer wanted control."

Spike paused. "On Friday, I didn't know what to do and I didn't use my head. I just followed my instinct and finally I couldn't take it anymore. Are we really so different?"

The room seemed to hold its breath. Finally Chase opened their mouth. "No. We're not so different at all."

"Right. Are you going to let me go now?"

"No."

"No? I did what you wanted, cockroach! I talked to you!"

"But that's not all I wanted – I want you to talk to the people who care about you, if only for closure."

"Nobody misses a monster like me."

"People miss you." Chase looked right into the eyes of his reflection, and he saw not only himself, but Spike in all his vulnerability. "Spike, you're not a monster."

Chase felt his breath catch from Spike's reaction.

"You know I'm not lying."

Spike shook their head. "I can't talk to them."

"You need to – they want you to."

"This is your life, Chase – I was never meant to live it."

"Are you sure about that?"

Spike twisted their expression into one of surprised bewilderment.

"You've always wanted to live, and when you did, you really lived. You proved that you deserve to live, and I can't take that away from you."

"I'm choosing not to live, so go ahead."

Chase tried to roll their eyes again, but Spike stopped them.

"Look at me – er, us," Spike commanded. "I screwed up, big time. I lost everything, and I can't get it back. What's the point?"

"The point is that it's not as lost as you think it is – and you _can_ fix it. You have to, just like every other human being."

Spike pursed their lips. "Why are you so set on this?"

"Because your life affects mine, and yours isn't so bad. You're not so bad."

"What are you suggesting?"

Chase swallowed. "Maybe we could find a way to share time."

"You'd trust me?"

"We're going to have to find a way to trust each other."

"How?"

"Well, let's start by getting out of this chair."

They heard a chorus of "What!"s behind them, and the others came into view.

"Are you crazy?" Leo asked.

"They already sound like it," Bree muttered.

"Guys, you can't be walking around – you could hurt yourself…s," Mr. Davenport said quickly.

"Mr. Davenport, we'll be fine," Chase assured him. "We need to figure this out."

"Isn't there a better way to do it?"

"No," Spike snapped. "Now uncuff us already, nimrod."

At the look from Mr. Davenport, Chase said, "I'll make sure he behaves."

"So much for trust," Spike snarled.

Chase heaved a sigh and rolled their eyes.

"Don't do that – if I'm not expecting it, it's really disorienting," Spike barked.

"Rolling my eyes?"

"They're mine too." Without warning, the app rolled their eyes to demonstrate.

"Whoa, you're right," Chase admitted. "That's not fun."

"You're not fun," Spike smirked.

"You know, I never imagined you being so immature."

"I never imagined you could be so stubborn. You're a mule. You smell like one too."

"We share a body!"

"Argh! That makes it so hard to insult you!" The others snickered at this, and Spike growled at them. "Just get us out of these."

After exchanging looks with Mr. Davenport for confirmation, Adam and Leo got to work. When the bonds were released, Spike flexed their fingers and curled their arms. "Better," he grunted. He tried standing up, but wobbled and fell back into the chair, which slid back.

"You can't just get up and not tell me – I wasn't expecting you to stand right away," Chase admonished.

"Well, just let me stand up and don't interfere."

"Or _I_ could stand up, and _you_ watch for the ride."

"No way!"

"What part of trust and working together don't you understand?"

"What part of it do _you_ not understand, brainless 'smartest guy in the world'?"

"You know what? Just stand up. That horrible insult isn't even worth fighting."

"You don't give me much to work with."

"Because I just have so many great qualities," Chase grinned nastily.

"No. There's just not much to you at all. I can't do anything with your colorless personality."

"Ouch. Okay, now that was a worthy insult."

"Too bad I can't use it again – my arsenal's almost empty now."

"Ha."

Without warning, Spike tried to stand again, flailing as he fought Chase's surprise. The youngest bionic, unable to balance, practically dove into the ground.

"Spike!" Chase complained.

"You're hopeless, Chase," Spike snarled, propping them up.

"I don't know that this was a good idea," Mr. Davenport murmured.

"No, let them keep going – it's hilarious!" Adam laughed.

Chase rolled his eyes.

"Stop it, Chase!"

Adam and Leo had already been laughing, but this got even Bree to chuckle. The youngest bionic growled in frustration.

"This isn't working," Spike grumbled. "We can't function at the same time."

"Yes we can – you just need to be more cooperative," Chase snapped.

Spike made them snort. "I think bossy is the one who needs to cooperate more."

"See? We're not the only ones who think you're bossy, Chase," Adam grinned.

Chase clenched their teeth. "Fine. Just stand up already."

Spike nodded their head, and after a moment, he rolled to their hands and knees and paused. He began climbing to their feet, but lurched forward and grabbed onto the chair. "Chase! Stop it! I've got this!"

"I don't want to fall again," Chase muttered.

"Neither do I. What happened to 'we need to trust each other'?" Spike said in a derogatory mimicking of his alter ego.

Chase huffed. "Just do it. I'll try not to interfere."

"You'd better not, or I might just strangle us."

"You don't want to fall over again, but you're willing to kill us?"

"Shut up." Spike pushed them up, and they swayed for a moment, their hands out for balance.

"Why can't you just walk?" Leo asked.

"Because Chase is still fighting," Spike grunted.

"No I'm not!" Chase argued.

"Yes, you are."

"Okay, but I'm not trying to – it's instinct. I'm not used to my body moving without my consent."

"You did give me consent."

Chase sighed and rolled their eyes.

"Whoa!" Spike yelped, and they toppled to the ground. "Will you _stop it_?!"

"I'm sorry, but it's just natural – I wasn't thinking!" Chase barked.

"Well, you should try it sometime – then maybe you wouldn't be such a blundering oaf."

This earned the youngest bionic peals of laughter from all of the other four present.

"Gah-" Spike began as he flopped back in frustration, but his movement startled Chase.

"-aah! Spike, don't do that!"

"I hate you," Spike groaned, covering their eyes with the crook of their arm.

Chase lifted their arm away, but Spike fought him. "I want to see!" Chase complained.

"And I don't."

"You guys are pathetic," Leo giggled.

"You triaa I willarghl," the bionic choked as both tried to retort at the same time.

"This is so funny!" Adam hooted, wiping away the tears that were creeping out from under his eyelids.

Mr. Davenport was also chuckling, but he shook his head, saying, "Spike, Chase, I think that's enough for one day."

"No, we'll figure this out!" Chase insisted.

Spike snorted. "No we won't. Not when I want to strangle you."

"You'd be strangling yourself."

" _Shut up_!"

Mr. Davenport crouched down next to them, holding up the device. "We can work on this more later – you're both frustrated, so you're not going to go anywhere right now."

They stared up at him, their expression conflicted. The mogul could tell that they were fighting each other – their mouth seemed to be spasming, but no sound came out.

"Sit up so I can get to your neck," he commanded, but at the look that went across their face, he quickly said, "No, wait – Adam, prop them up. We've heard and watched enough fighting for one day."

After several 'Ger'off o' me!'s and 'Knock it off, Spike,'s from the youngest bionic, Adam had them propped up and Mr. Davenport placed the device on their neck, pressing the button. The youngest bionic fell slack in Adam's arms.

Leo looked around at the others. "Yep. That display would have definitely landed them in a mental hospital."

* * *

 **AN: And I think Leo's right on that one... what do these guys get themselves into? Honestly.**

 **Fun Fact: If any of you were stalking this story's progress before I started posting it, you know how I was saying I was going to stick to protocol and wait 'til I finished it. Well... I only just finished it this last October, October of 2016. Yeah, it took me that long to write it. I'm slow. I'm _still_ going through and editing it! Guess that shows the lengths I go to write it, and to write it right. I hope it shows ;)**

 **Whelp, thanks for all the follows, favorites, and reviews! Seriously, y'all are so good to this little author here, and it means a ton. Let me know what your thoughts are on this insanity, and what you think will happen next!**

 **Keep an eye out for Chapter 88!**


	88. Chapter 88

Spike stepped out of the middle capsule, pulling on his favorite Marines ball cap. It didn't feel quite right with how short his hair had been cut, so he jimmied it around until it felt a little more acceptable.

"Ready to go back?" Bree asked from beside him.

He snorted. "No."

He and Chase, over the course of the weekend, had worked it out that Spike would have Monday to himself, and that they'd hash it out more from there. Spike still wasn't sure about being out again and having to confront his mistakes, but he wasn't about to go back and admit that he was weak.

Adam came over and clapped him on the shoulder. "You've got this, buddy."

Spike sighed in exasperation. "I see I'm no longer kicked out of the family."

Adam shrugged sheepishly. "Now that you and Chase aren't out to kill each other, I think we can accommodate you both."

"If Chase had been the one to kill me, you wouldn't have cared."

Adam and Bree glanced at each other before the oldest turned back to the app. "Maybe then I wouldn't have, but now… you're my brother too. I don't want anything happening to either of you."

"At least you're honest," Spike grunted, shouldering past them.

They caught up to him, Adam saying, "I'm sorry, Spike. You being gone has been strange and… I missed you. I'm really sorry."

Spike slowed to a stop to search the older boy for any trick.

"Me too," Bree whispered. "We were awful to both you and Chase, but especially you. I hope you can forgive us."

"Keep hoping," Spike growled. He took up his pace again, but Bree's words stopped him.

"Then don't expect the forgiveness of others."

Spike turned to her, swallowing. He knew his siblings could see the gears turning. "You're right. I'll try." He turned back before they could respond and stepped into the elevator. Bree sped herself and Adam in before the doors could close, and Spike gave them a look of irritation.

"Thank you, Spike," Bree said with a small smile.

He raised his eyebrows, and they rose higher as she suddenly hugged him. A moment later Adam had joined in, the two of them squeezing him.

"I'm not Chase, remember," Spike reminded them in a strained voice.

"We know – we love _you_ , Spike," Bree assured him.

"You're our brother too," Adam added, "and we like to hug our brothers."

"Bleh, too much love for me," Spike gacked, but they only hugged him tighter. He couldn't help the small smile that rose to his lips.

* * *

Spike walked through the front doors to Mission Creek High, Adam, Bree, and Leo flanking him. A few people glanced at him twice when they noticed what he was wearing, but he ignored them.

"Squatmug!" the Davenports and Dooley heard from behind them, and they turned to face Principal Perry. "Having another identity crisis, are you?" she snickered, coming right up to the app.

His lips lifted into a snarl. "You're not one to talk, Garden Gnome."

Her face scrunched up with offense. "At least I don't live in a fairy garden."

"A fairy garden is an upgrade from your little hole under a rock."

"Joke's on you, I live above ground. In a trailer home."

"Oh ho ho," Spike laughed. "Guess who's fairy garden is a mansion?" He gestured to himself in challenge.

Perry's eyes glinted. "Get me in on some of that cash."

"Back off, Leprechaun. We ain't your pot of gold."

"Come on, Spike," Bree said gently, dragging the app back.

"Which is it, Chase or Spike?" Perry asked snidely.

"Both," Spike snapped over his shoulder as his siblings guided him away. "Depends on the day – you'd better watch your back, Terri Cherry Perry."

"You plan on coming back more?" Leo asked him.

"If only to keep her on her toes." The app shrugged his siblings off of him. The four of them stopped when they noticed a familiar group of boys edging their way up to them.

"Spike? Is that really you?"

Spike looked into the searching and equally wary eyes of Carter before shifting his gaze over the rest of the group. He had difficulty maintaining eye contact with Henry and Jem, and he made note that Nick wasn't among them.

"Go on," Bree whispered, nudging him forward. Adam squeezed his shoulder before giving him a good shove forward.

"Hey!" Spike exclaimed, glaring back at the oldest bionic. He turned back to the other boys, grumbling, "Meathead," under his breath.

Carter let escape a fleeting grin, his eyes watery and bright for a moment before he swallowed back his joy. A couple of the other guys wore similar expressions. Carter scratched the back of his head, saying, "You're really Spike, unless you're Chase and your acting has improved."

"It's me," Spike shoved his hands in his pockets.

"You humor me?"

Spike snorted. "Heck no. I only humor myself, Wingman."

Carter huffed a squeaky laugh, biting his lip to try to contain the reappearance of his grin. He shook his head, glancing at the guys who shifted uncomfortably beside him.

Spike didn't miss this, and he dropped his gaze to his shoes. "You guys are still mad at me, aren't you?" He lifted his eyes to see that Carter's face had fallen.

"Yeah, you have a lot to account for, Davenport," Henry said with a half-shrug.

"You know most of the story already?" Spike asked.

"Probably, but it wouldn't hurt to hear it in your words."

"Right." The app scuffed his shoe on the floor. Looking to his siblings, he gave them a pointed look. "It's me and the guys now, ladies." He received miffed looks from all three.

"Really?" Bree asked with an unimpressed eyebrow arched.

"Don't you see all this manliness?" Leo objected.

"Scram," Spike rolled his eyes, and with sighs, they did. He turned back to his teammates. "How much do you want to hear?"

"All of it," Henry replied. "We've got time."

"And it'd better include an apology," Jem added.

Spike nodded. "It will."


	89. Chapter 89

Spike shoved a bite of turkey cube and mashed potato into his mouth, struggling to avert his gaze from across the lunchroom. Carter nudged his shoulder with his own. "Dude, your team not enough?"

The app blinked, ducking his head a moment.

"You screwed up, get over it. She's over you."

"Really? Already?"

"It's been a couple weeks."

"Right." Spike dropped his plastic fork to his tray, rubbing his eyes.

"You could try to apologize and hope she doesn't kill you. Actually, I would be more worried about Nick," Carter said unhelpfully.

"Look, I never meant to hurt her. I just totally lost control," Spike groaned. All other conversation at their table had fallen silent by that time.

"That was a lot of control to lose," one of the other guys, Noah, commented.

"I would have never gone that far!" Spike shouted. Much of the lunchroom quieted at that, but the app didn't look up out of his palms. "You don't understand what she meant to me."

"Wow, Spike sharing his emotions – are we sure this isn't Chase again?" another guy, Asher, commented. Carter shot him a look.

"You're right," Spike growled. "I've got to stop being so mushy and rip out someone's windpipe to use as a hose. Will it be yours?" He stood up, slinging his backpack over his shoulder and grabbing his tray.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, get back here!" Carter burst out, but Spike paid him no mind. Throwing his teammates a dirty look, the blonde-haired boy got up after the app and followed him out of the cafeteria. "Spike, where are you going?"

Spike stopped in his tracks, and Carter stopped too.

"Where are you goin', man?"

The app shook his head, barking a bitter laugh as he turned around. "If Chase thought his life was a mess, at least he didn't lose anything."

"You got your team," Carter put in.

"Some of it. The rest? Gone."

"Yeah man, I don't know. I don't know what to say."

"Don't say anything then!"

Carter pursed his lips. "Don't be pushing me away too."

Spike blew out his breath, wiping a hand down his face. "Carter, go. Now. Before I do push you away. Don't give me the opportunity to screw up any more."

Carter stared down at his feet a moment before he turned and went back into the lunchroom. Spike stared after him a moment before whirling around angrily. No, he wasn't particularly angry with Carter or the rest of his teammates, but with himself. How could he not be?

He slammed his fist against a nearby locker, letting his head hang. _Why? Why must I be such a monster?_

* * *

Spike slumped at his desk, his cheek squished against his arm as he traced the dots on the ceiling with his eyes. His ears tracked each tick of the clock, and he pointedly ignored any utter the drone at the front of the room made.

 _Mmm, why did I think school would be worthwhile again?_

 _There isn't even any rugby to bribe me._

He inwardly groaned. He didn't know how much longer he could stand the school day.

 _Forty-three, forty-two, forty-one…_

 _Thirty, twenty-nine, twenty-eight…_

 _Seventeen, sixteen, fifteen…_

 _Four, three, two…_

Spike was already standing up when the bell commencing the school day rang. He was out the door within the next ten seconds. As he walked down the hallway, he heard a familiar voice shout at him, and he groaned. _I am_ not _dealing with this right now._

He ducked down a hallway and ran right into someone, his nostrils filling with her perfume. She let out a flurry of curses, and Spike knew that he'd run right into trouble.

Kenzi stepped back to the head of her posse, which blocked the hallway. She glared at the app. "Well look at the perv who showed up."

Spike flashed her a snarl before turning to back out of the hallway, but he was met by Trent's goons closing in. He turned back to the girl.

"Looks like you're in trouble," she squinted at him, crossing her arms. "Didn't I make you a promise?"

"I don't have time for this," Spike grunted, his head whipping back and forth between the two parties.

"I think you do," she said in an undertone, grabbing his shirt collar and yanking his face to hers. Her lips smashed into his, and a mixture of passions raced through him, however confused he was.

And then he felt pain explode in his abdomen, and he was shoved back without warning.

Kenzi held up her right fist, which was adorned with not-so-decorative full-finger rings. She flashed him a nasty look before staring at Trent, who stood behind Spike. "Can you believe that freak?" she screeched. "He's still the same monster!"

Spike spun around to face the bully. "Still the same monster," Trent growled, licking his lips. "Still haven't learned, have you, Spike?" The senior cracked his knuckles.

Spike wiped his mouth and straightened his shirt. "You're making a mistake, nimrod."

"You're one to talk – you just never change. Who's next on your rape list?"

"Raaahr!" Spike roared, lunging forward. Three large boys met him, shoving him back into the boys of Kenzi's group who had stepped forward. The app leapt away from them, spinning around as the kill ring closed in on him.

Trent flashed him a taunting smile. "What's the little monster going to do now?"

With that, the blow fell. Spike was a whirlwind of fighting fury, but for every blow he dealt, he received so many more. Everything was a haze, and it wasn't long before he found himself growing hazy too. All of a sudden he couldn't stay on his feet, and all of a sudden he was on the floor trying to roll from kicks. All of a sudden he couldn't even do that, but curl up in a ball and pray for the end.

And all of a sudden it was over.

"Stay down, Davenport! Stay down!" Trent's voice bellowed, and the app looked up to see that he and the others were being dragged away from him by teachers, the school policeman, and Principal Perry. A wrinkled hand reached down to the app, and he took it. He refused to look into the eyes of Mr. Hoffman.

"I'll take care of Spike," the man told Perry.

"No you won't, he and the rest of these junior delinquent snots are coming with me to my office," Perry argued.

"Spike's coming with me," Mr. Hoffman said firmly. Without paying any mind to the principal, the teacher guided Spike into the nearest classroom and shut the door behind him. He turned to face the boy, who had plopped down on a desk. "You're going to want some ice for that."

Spike touched his fingers to his split lip, studying the blood for a second before wiping it on his shorts. "Which one?"

Mr. Hoffman cracked a smile. "If it makes you feel better, none of the others made it out without their own shiners."

The app grunted with a curt nod.

"You're a tough one, kid. But I would stop picking fights if I were you."

Spike glared up at the teacher. "I didn't pick this one." He went back to studying his bloodied knuckles. "And besides, I've seen worse. They're just a bunch of buffoons."

Neither of them said anything for a while, Spike merely examining his injuries and the teacher examining the boy. Sliding off of the desk, the app steadied himself before breaking the silence. "I'm going home."

The teacher nodded, opening the classroom door and escorting the app out. The janitors were already tackling the job of cleaning up the mess the boys had made. The two skirted around them and made their way to Spike's locker, where his siblings were waiting.

"Spike!" Bree cried out when she saw him, and she hurried up to him to wrap him in a hug, Adam and Leo standing right behind her but not joining in. The app cringed at the contact.

"What happened?" Adam asked.

"When we saw Trent and his buddies being dragged down the hall…" Leo searched the youngest of his older brothers.

Spike gently pushed Bree off of him, turning to face Mr. Hoffman. "I'm fine now. Thanks."

Mr. Hoffman gave the siblings a warm smile before nodding to the app. He turned and left them.

Spike faced his siblings again. "I'm not talking about it right now, so let's just get out of here."

Bree nodded, taking his backpack for him. Adam took it from her. "Are you okay?" she asked Spike.

Spike swallowed. "No."


	90. Chapter 90

Chase pressed a slab of steak to his face with his left hand, Tasha wrapping his right. He was sprawled across the couch back in the Davenport mansion, where he had regained consciousness when Spike deactivated.

"He didn't even make it a full day," Chase mumbled through his swollen lips. "I'm not surprised that people wanted to beat him up, but I am surprised that he let them beat him up."

Leo paced back and forth in front of the TV. "It is weird, 'cause it sounds like he pretty much took out his whole team before. This should have been a piece of cake for him."

Chase stared into his toes. "Maybe he wanted to get beat up."

Leo's face scrunched up. "Why would anyone want to get beat up?"

"Haven't you ever been that angry with yourself before?"

"Have you?"

Tasha looked between them. "Boys, don't tell me you've wanted to hurt yourselves!"

"No," they both said quickly.

"I haven't," Chase continued, "but when Spike and I have been out at the same time, I can feel that burning anger, and it is directed at himself. He loathes himself."

"He can't forgive himself, can he?" Leo realized.

"Especially when others can't," Chase finished. He met the younger boy's eyes.

"Paige."

"What?" Tasha asked.

"Spike's girlfriend," Leo answered.

"Well, she _was_ Spike's girlfriend," Chase corrected.

"Spike had a girlfriend?" Tasha's eyebrows rose.

"Yeah, and I guess he's not over her," Leo shrugged.

Chase paused in thought. "I think it's time he tries to talk to her."

* * *

"This is insane – her family will kill you!" Leo hissed, grabbing at Chase's arm and trying to pull him back. The older boy bit back a yelp as a couple of his many bruises were irritated in this action. "Adam and Bree are in training – they can't even help you!"

"I'm not going to let him do anything else stupid – the air needs to be cleared," Chase muttered.

"In the state you're in? Chase, you look like crap."

The bionic turned on him. "Yeah, and I feel like it too."

"Then _why_ are you doing this, _right now_?"

"Because I need to fix this!" He tugged Spike's hat back in place, taking up his pace again.

"What are you going to do, just waltz up to their front door and knock? Hope Nick doesn't answer?" The two of them slowed in front of the townhouse, looking it up and down. "How do you know this is the right place?"

"Spike saved the location in my GPS history."

Leo stepped in front of his older brother. "This is crazy. Just forget about it for today – you were just beat up a few hours ago. You guys will scare her away, if anything."

Chase shook his head. "I'm going to stand over here by this tree and make Spike come out, and you're going to go up and try to get her to come out and talk."

"What!" Leo squeaked.

"Come on," Chase rolled his eyes. "Just do it."

"This is such a bad idea." Leo shot him a look, but he slunk up to Paige's door anyways.

As Chase watched his step-brother knock on the door, he closed his eyes so that all he watched was the sunlight painting his eyelids peach. _Commando Application, engage,_ he commanded.

* * *

Spike rose to consciousness to take over, and he blinked his eyes open to see himself on a familiar street that wound down a hill, lined by townhouses. He was leaning against a tree, and Paige's door was opening for Leo.

* * *

Leo looked up into the face of a woman, who must have been Paige's mom. "Hi, Mrs. Irwin, is Paige home?"

"Yeah, she is," the lady said with a frown of confusion.

"Can she come out for a second?"

"I'll call her down." The woman flashed him a skeptical look before following through. Paige didn't take long to come to the door, and she slowed when she saw who it was.

"Hi Paige, uh, you don't know me real well, but Spike was wondering if he could talk to you."

She swallowed. "Spike?"

"Yeah, he's right…" Leo trailed off when he found himself pointing to a lone tree. Spike was nowhere in sight. "Well, he was right there," he turned back to her awkwardly.

She lightly shook her head. "Look, I'm kind of busy. Bye."

"Wait-" The door closed in his face. He huffed a sigh. "Dang it, Spike."

* * *

Spike stormed into the lab, causing his siblings and father figure to pause in their drills. "Chase? What's going on?"

"It's none of your business," Spike growled as he dug out the device he needed, surprising the others with his voice.

"Spike?"

"Don't ask!" And with that he was out of the lab again, riding the elevator up to the top floor where the guest bedrooms were. Upon arriving, he stormed into one and slammed the door shut. Locking it, he pulled the mirror on a stand in front of the bed, and he sat on the mattress. Glaring into his reflection, he held the device to his neck and pressed the button.

"Ahhh!" he screamed as pain blossomed in his head. The inside seemed to grow too quickly for the outside, and he clutched at his skull with a moan, pushing his hat off in a vain attempt to relieve the pressure.

"My head," his voice groaned without his permission.

Spike's anger flared again, and he shoved back the pain to glower into the mirror. "What the heck, Chase?!" he roared. "What are you playing at?"

"You're the oneeehllck-" Chase began, but Spike fought the movement of their tongue.

"Why did you bring me there? You want to make everything worse? Trying stir up more trouble for me?" He felt their anger swell with Chase's own.

"I'm trying to fix this! You are not okay with where things are at, and it's clear! You let us get beat up today, and so I have to pay the price too!"

"I didn't let anything happen!"

"Oh, bull! All of us know you can hold your own against a bunch of school boys!"

Spike clamped their mouth shut before Chase could continue. "So to get payback, you go _there_?"

"I was trying to fix things-"

"Oh, _bull_!" Spike bellowed. "I hate you, Chase!"

It was Chase's turn to glare into the mirror. "You _can_ fix this, you big baby."

Spike darkened further. "If you think it's so easy, why don't you just see for yourself."

"I know what you face, but I can't fix it because I'm not you," Chase snapped. "I know because I've _tried_. Only you can fix it, Spike."

"You're wrong, Chase. Not even I can fix it."

"Yes you can."

"No, I can't!"

"You have to!"

The two shared a glare directed at the other, Spike lifting their lip into a snarl. "You want to see what I'm up against? Sit in the back of my head for a day. _Conscious_."

"You know what? I will. Tomorrow."

Spike blinked in surprise at Chase's response. "Seriously? Come on, we both know that that doesn't work."

"We were getting better over the weekend – if we practice for the rest of tonight, we might be able to pull it off tomorrow."

"You can't interfere."

"That's the whole point of practicing. I'm going to practice not interfering."

"You'd better figure it out quickly."

Chase rolled their eyes. "I'll try."

"And what have I told you about rolling our eyes?"

"Ugh."

With effort, Spike managed to stand up. "Remember, you're just along for the ride."

"I know."

"No, don't respond – that's not being along for the ride."

An annoyed groan bubbled in their throat.

"Stop it, Chase! Silence."

"We're not in school right now, so I can talk to you."

"In rugby, we practice how we play because you play how you practice. Got it?"

"I hate sports metaphors," Chase grumbled.

"Get over it and shut up already!"

Chase pursed their lips. Spike forced them to relax. He took a step forward.

"Whoa!" Chase yelped, and the bionic fell forward into the mirror. Spike steadied them with it. "You didn't tell me we were walking!" Chase complained.

"I'm not going to tell you _anything_ tomorrow, got it? Otherwise they'll think we're crazy."

"We are crazy."

"They don't need to know that," Spike growled. "Now stop being a pain in the butt."

"Really? Do I hurt your butt?" Chase snickered.

"I'll hurt _your_ butt," Spike snarled.

"It's yours too."

Spike closed their eyes, blowing out a breath. "You are the most annoying thing that's ever happened to this planet." He took a step forward, and another. He carefully walked them to the door, unlocking it.

"Tonight's goal is that the others don't realize that you're out too, got it?"

Chase nodded their head, and with a flash of irritation, Spike opened the door.

Outside stood Mr. Davenport, Adam, and Bree. "Too late," Bree said sheepishly.

Spike glowered at them. "Ever heard of privacy?"

The others looked at each other, Bree saying, "Just running into the lab and running out again was weird, and when we came looking for you, we heard you guys yelling. We were worried."

"We heard what you guys said," Mr. Davenport added. "I think it's a really bad idea."

"And who are you to stop us?" Spike snapped.

Before he could say anything else, Chase piped up. "Mr. Davenport, we're trying to figure things out. Trust us."

The mogul stared at them, biting his lip in thought. "Spike's right, I can't stop you."

"This is going to be funny," Adam grinned.

"No, it won't," Spike barked. "None of you are going to say anything, and Chase isn't going to either. We can still test this on Tasha and Leo."

"Speaking of Leo, where is he?" Chase asked.

"Shut up, Chase. You're not talkillllgk-"

"ksSpike, where is Leo? Don't tell me you left him at Paige's."

Spike didn't respond, not meeting the interested gazes of the others.

Chase slapped their hand to their forehead. "You did, didn't you?"


	91. Chapter 91

"I had to walk a mile, all the way home!" Leo yelled as he stormed into the mansion. "Do you know how far a mile is?"

"And it took you an hour?" Spike smirked where he, Adam, and Bree sat on the couch watching cartoons.

"Yeah, thanks for leaving me there," Leo snapped, slamming the door behind him. "Do you even know how far that is?"

The app pretended to think. "A little longer than a kilometer. We ran three of those for warm-ups during practices. It took me less than ten minutes to get home."

"We run miles in training – I like running," Adam shrugged.

"Like running? I love running," Bree scoffed. "A mile, a thousand – what's the difference?"

Leo scowled. "Easy for you bionic people. But for us normal people? A mile is _hard_."

"Leo, even I could make a mile in less than twenty minutes walking," Mr. Davenport looked up from his desk.

Leo glared at him. "Not helping. So I might have gotten distracted... and lost." He plopped down on the couch next to Spike, who flinched. Irritation flashed across the expression of the youngest bionic.

"Whatcha guys watching?" Leo asked.

"Whatever's on. I don't really know what it is," Bree shrugged. "Adam picked it out."

"I think it's called _Captain Backwards_ ," Adam squinted.

"I made that up," Leo deadpanned.

"You did? And now it's on TV?" Adam asked in excitement, finally tearing his eyes away from the screen to grin at Leo.

"No – I made it up and it's _not_ on TV – this show isn't called _Captain Backwards_."

"No, I think it actually is," Bree pitched in.

Leo's face cleared with astonishment. "Oh, I'm good."

"No you're not, the show is called _Captain Back_ lash!" the youngest bionic finally burst out after having a spasm of expressions. His face still flickered, but he forced it into steady annoyance.

"Spike, are you okay?" a disconcerted Leo asked with a frown.

Adam and Bree shared an amused look as Spike calmed himself. "Yes, I'm fine. I'll be right back."

He slowly stood and made his way out of the room with care.

"What's wrong with him?" Leo asked. Adam and Bree shrugged, biting back smirks.

Meanwhile, Spike stumbled into the bathroom and shut the door, locking it. Bracing himself on the sink, he looked up into the mirror. "What was that, Chase?"

"Keep your voice down," Chase hissed.

Spike growled. "Keep your voice _off_."

"I was at your pitch, so he doesn't even know!"

"I don't say things like that! Can't you control yourself?"

"They were getting it wrong!"

"So?"

" _So_? They were _wrong_!"

"So what? Who cares?" The app gestured in frustration. "Guess what? No one. No one cares, so shut up."

Chase blinked their eyes.

"I'm going to go back out there, and you're not going to be a backseat driver. You're going to be a tied up, gagged hostage in the trunk. Got it?"

"I bet you're wishing you could actually do that."

Spike let their lips rise into his smirk. "You bet I am." He turned on the faucet and wet their hands, rubbing the water onto their face. "I'm in control. I'm in control."

"Keep telling yourself that."

Spike squeezed their eyes shut. "I hate you, Chase."

* * *

"I'm back – and I got Chinese for dinner tonight!"

"Woo hoo! I love Chinese food!" Leo whooped, leaping from the couch to help his mom bring in her grocery bags and the boxes of their dinner. Adam, Bree, and Spike were close behind.

Mr. Davenport had gotten up from his desk, and he began setting out plates and silverware. Leo and Bree took the food to the table while Tasha, Adam, and Spike brought the rest of the groceries to the kitchen counter.

Spike had to focus on each step, countering any unconscious jerks Chase made. Their walking had improved a lot, but it still felt unnatural. He was vastly annoyed with his alter-ego, but he couldn't afford to show it and blow their cover.

Joining the rest of his family, Spike sat down at his spot and began dishing his plate as the others did as well.

"So, besides Spike getting in a fight, did anything interesting happen in school today?" Tasha asked conversationally.

"I passed my math test," Bree grinned.

"And I failed it," Adam shrugged without seeming upset in the least. No one was surprised.

"I forgot my homework at school," Leo said with mock disappointment. "I guess I can't do it tonight, which means I can watch _Pig Zombies IV: Attack of-_ "

"Nice try, mister. If you aren't doing homework, you're going to bed early," Tasha told him sternly. He deflated. She turned to Spike. "How about since Spike let you back, Chase?"

"I am Spike," Spike snapped.

"Oh!" Tasha blinked. "Sorry, honey. I didn't realize you came back."

"Yeah, well I did," Spike grumbled, dishing himself a heaping helping of pork fried rice. His hand jerked as Chase tried to stop him from taking so much, but the app just gritted his teeth and forced the food onto his plate.

Tasha wasn't sure what she was seeing when she watched this, but she dismissed it. "Did anything else interesting happen for you today?"

Spike snorted. "Nothing I want to talk about."

Tasha puffed her lips into a pouty expression. "Oh, okay mister mysterious."

He rolled his eyes, scooping his forkful of fried rice, meat, and vegetables into his mouth.

"Well, I may be a man of mystery, but I'll talk about my day," Mr. Davenport said with a self-satisfied beam. "I came up with an idea for a life-changing invention this morning, I secured two billion more dollars to the company before lunch, this afternoon I made lots of headway on another one of my technologies only Chase could hope to fully understand, and still I am worthy of the 'Best Father' award."

"Good for you," Adam said in his baby voice. "Nobody cares."

The mogul gave him a look. "You should. Let's hear you say that when I make you live in a cardboard box in the yard."

Adam's face lit up. "Really? Will it be able to fly?"

Bree leaned towards the man. "You might want to rethink that statement – he thinks you're rewarding him."

Mr. Davenport sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

The table fell into silence save for the clinking of metal on ceramic. As Spike shoved more of his food into his mouth, he felt his left hand moving against his will, and he slapped it back down on the table. It was clenching his napkin.

The rest of the family paused, looking up at the app.

"What?" Spike snapped, and after a moment, they returned to eating their food. He tried to make his hand relax, but Chase fought him. The bionic's hand began to rise again, and Spike scowled at it, trying to force it back down. Spike glanced over the rest of his family members, who had paused again, and his cheeks flushed.

"Spike?" Leo asked.

"It's nothing," Spike replied, trying to sound menacing. It didn't work. With absolute focus, he laid his hand back on the table and scooped up more rice to shove into his mouth. The others shrugged and returned to their food, three with smirks and two with expressions of concern.

The bionic's left hand began to rise again, and Spike tensed up, fighting it.

"Just wipe our face, Spike!" the words exploded from his mouth, and the others looked up in alarm.

"Chase?" Leo gasped through the rice that spilled from his lips.

Spike's frustration swelled and dominated over Chase, and he dropped both the napkin and his fork to bury their face in their hands. "I'm going to actually kill that pansy someday."

"You eat like a pig, Spike – I _had_ to step in!" Chase's words dribbled from their mouth as he tried to make them look up, but Spike overpowered him.

"Uuuuuugh. Shut _up_ , Chase!"

Tasha's eyes were wide. "What's going on here?"

"They're out at the same time," Bree explained. "They're going to try to go to school like this tomorrow."

Leo burst into laughter. "Bree, I didn't know you could be so hilarious! That would be so funny to see, though."

"I'm not joking," Bree said straight-faced.

Leo's laughter died. "What?" Turning to the youngest bionic, he gave them a serious look. "You guys are actually mental. I vote we lock them up."

Spike rubbed their face, sitting back up. "No, we're trying to figure something out. We know what we're doing."

"You're sure?"

Neither Spike nor Chase answered, Spike taking his fork to begin eating again.

"Oh no, no you don't!" Chase burst out, and their hand spasmed so that the fork clattered on the plate. "You have eaten enough – our stomach is _full_."

Spike snorted. "No it's not, weight-watcher. Who's the one who put some meat on our bones? And it's not _fat_."

"Fine, eat larger portions, but eat something packed with vitamins and nutrients – not this stuff. Fried food is so bad for you."

"No, it's not – it's food, and I'm eating it."

"You sound like Adam."

"Let me say that again: it's _food_ , so I'm eating it."

"Guys, stop!" Leo shouted. He was holding his mom's hand as she was freaked out by this exchange. "You sound crazy, and you're going to drive us all crazy if you keep this up."

Spike sighed. "We were fine until Chase decided to be a pain."

Bree glanced at Tasha before addressing the youngest bionic. "Chase, Spike, if you do anything like this tomorrow at school, even we can't keep you out of an insane asylum. You'll scare everyone."

Chase gritted their teeth. "I'll try harder tomorrow."

"No, you're going to try harder starting now," Spike snarled. "End of discussion, Chase."

* * *

 **AN: Well, I hope this weird little chapter made y'all laugh - especially this Christmas Eve. My Christmas present to you guys :)**

 **Thank you, everyone, for the kind reviews, all the favorites and follows, and general support! You all are as sweet as a candy cane ;)**

 **Have a very Merry Christmas, and keep an eye out for Chapter 92!**


	92. Chapter 92

Spike rose from the dark tendrils of sleep to see himself standing in his capsule, the lab dark. Adam and Bree were sleeping to either side of him.

His right hand twitched, knocking into the capsule glass as it had moments ago, which was what had woken him. He frowned at it, confused. Had it just moved on its own?

"…centripetal acceleration of the pizza…" the words slurred from his mouth, and his heart skipped a beat. He didn't know where that had come from.

And then he remembered. He and Chase had just opted to both stay out to escape the skull-crushing pain of the device, and now while he was awake, Chase was apparently still asleep. Which was weird.

 _Well, I'm not going back to sleep. I'll let Chase do the sleeping, because technically_ I _don't even need it._ He pressed open the glass door of their capsule and stepped out. Chase made another noise and shifted, but it seemed that he was still asleep. _Just like sleepwalking, I guess._

The app made his way up to the main level, a little surprised to see that only the first grays of the rising sun were peeking over the horizon to paint the room with weak light. The blinking lights of Mission Creek in the blackness of the hills against the lightening pale sky was stunning, and the app found himself drawn to the scene.

If anyone had asked how long he'd stood there, he wouldn't have been able to say. The beauty was mesmerizing, peaceful. It made anything he worried about seem trivial.

"Chase? Spike?" a voice croaked behind the app. He tore his eyes away from the bright orange that had started to paint the sky to see that it was Tasha who had come to stand beside him.

Spike shushed her before turning back to the scenery. "I'm Spike – Chase's sleeping," he whispered.

"What? How is that possible?"

"Davenport explained it when he made that little device. I operate chiefly through the bionic system, and Chase more through the brain and nervous system. So our mind can be mostly asleep and I can still walk around. He woke me up with his twitching."

Tasha shook her head, blinking.

"Yeah, I know it's weird. I didn't ask for this, and Chase had better not've. Otherwise I'd have to turn his arms into pool sticks. I might still do that anyways. And don't remind me that we share a body!"

Tasha smirked despite her disgust. "I'll never understand bionics."

"You probably don't havuuuuunnnn," the app's words turned into Chase's sleepy groan. The bionic's lips smacked in Chase's sleep, and Spike grimaced. "Yeah… maybe I'll just kill him now."

Tasha still looked confused and quite disturbed.

"He's an obnoxious sleeper," Spike clarified. The frustration of the situation seemed to come crashing down on the app, and he ran their hands through their hair, blowing out a breath of emotion. "I hate this."

Tasha, moving past her discomfort, stepped closer to the app so that their shoulders brushed. "I know, sweetie."

"You know I'm not really sweet at all, right?"

Tasha smiled, glancing at him.

He briefly returned it before looking back out the window. "I wish I could be all on my own, or not out at all. Life or death, not this in-between limbo. And I'm not just talking about when we're out at the same time, but when we're out separately and have to account for each other. When I thought Chase was dead, it was so freeing. At the time, I feared the death even more than the limbo, but now I might just want that death. I mean, I'm just a screw-up. I can't do this."

"Spike, don't be so hard on yourself. Everyone makes mistakes, and you can make it through yours."

"Really? I just want to start over with a clean slate. I'd do things so differently. Or at least try to."

"We all would," Tasha sighed, wrapping her arm over his shoulders to rub the far one with her fingers.

"Will I always be just a monster?" he muttered under his breath.

Tasha sighed sadly. "Spike, lean on me. You don't have to be alone."

Despite his skepticism, the app relaxed enough to lean into her. Her gentle massaging seemed to massage his mind, letting the peace of the sunrise calm him and sooth his burning emotions.

Until grunting and a yawn escaped his mouth, his eyes moving of their own accord. "Wh-what?" Chase mumbled. "What's going on?"

"I was enjoying a sunrise until you decided to wake up," Spike sighed. Tasha pulled away in alarm. "Way to go, Chase."

"You were awake… while I was…" Chase yawned, "asleep?"

"Yes, dumbo. Now go back to sleep."

"Something woke me up."

Spike groaned. "Just go back to sleep, it's early."

"No, I'm awake now."

"Ugh. You are so, incredibly, annoying. Go die in the deep, dark abyss of our mind."

"You're the one who suggested this," Chase replied foggily.

"I'm going to go get ready for work – you should think about getting ready for school," Tasha interjected, backing away before darting up the stairs.

"You scare her," Spike commented into the air.

"Me? I would beg to differ."

"Beg to differ my butt. You talk so pompous."

"And you talk like a crude animal. Spike want food, Spike want kill you!"

"I don't talk in third person!"

"The others have said you do."

Spike scowled. "Only when I'm flirting or mad. And that's only sometimes."

Chase shook their head with a smirk. "How did you ever get a girlfriend?"

Spike darkened. "You're one to talk. I'm getting ready now whether you like it or not, and you should shut up because I'm going to start fighting you."

"I can fight back too."

"But you're not going to because this is game time, and I have no intention of scaring everyone away." He turned and began walking them back down to the lab.

"You don't seem to need my help with that," Chase dug.

Spike bared their teeth angrily. "Seems you woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning."

"I didn't even wake up in a bed, or even a capsule for that matter, thanks to you," Chase snapped.

Spike growled, and moments later they emerged from the elevator to walk into the lab. The app went straight to the cyber desk, changing the shower settings of their capsule.

"What are you doing?" Chase asked.

"We're taking a longer, hotter shower this morning."

"That is so wasteful!"

"You really think I care?"

"You should."

The bionic stepped into the capsule, and as soon as the door closed, the capsule sucked off their clothes and the steaming water rained down. Chase yelped, but Spike fought his movement.

"It feels good once you adjust," Spike snapped. Chase simmered, and Spike closed their eyes to soak in the sensation. Foggy clouds rose against the downpour, hissing off of the bionic's skin.

Spike let his mind wander, and he was almost able to forget everything that plagued him. Every hot droplet that rolled down his skin, every swish of the shallow water swirling around his feet… it was wonderful. He sucked in a deep breath, almost relishing how the moisture in the air didn't let in quite enough oxygen, and he gasped for more.

"This is so bad for us."

"Shut up, Chase," Spike murmured.

When the water ceased, the bionic shivered in the blast of air that would dry them before Spike's clothes dressed them. True to routine, Spike characteristically adjusted his hat, setting it just right. The capsule puffed them with Spike's cologne.

"Even your cologne is aggressive," Chase wrinkled their nose.

Spike rolled their eyes and stepped them out of the capsule and to the bathroom where he shut the door and looked into the mirror. Their face was colored with nasty-looking bruises. "We are Spike Davenport today, got it? You're not allowed to blow the multiple-personality disorder cover. Thanks for claiming that, by the way – I worked hard to dispel that myth."

"I did what I had to – how else can I explain this without revealing our bionics?"

"Speaking of those, you aren't allowed to help me with school work. I don't care if I don't have access to the super-intelligence while you do, you're going to let me be wrong. You aren't allowed to correct _anything_."

"My grades are at jeopardy!"

"I already blew them out of the water, so what does it matter? Grades mean nothing anyways."

"Spiiiike!"

"Don't fight me on this. You want to be labeled as the school nutjob?"

Chase groaned.

"You are invisible, you are silent, you are motionless. No one can be allowed to know that you're present. You're just a spectator."

Chase closed their eyes. "Right. Just a spectator."

"Now shut up. We have a school day to tackle."


	93. Chapter 93

Spike averted their gaze from those of their peers, going straight to their locker. He spun the combination, but didn't open the metal door.

When he didn't move, Adam, Bree, and Leo exchanged worried looks before ambling away. Spike stared at the floor, scuffing his shoe on it.

"Want to see how I spent mornings?" he muttered under their breath. Without letting Chase respond, Spike walked them into the music area, picking out and following the sweet melodies he was so accustomed to, yet never grew tired of.

Sitting down in his corner, he leaned against a wooden locker and rested their elbows on their knees, their head drooping. The brim of his hat blocked their sight.

"Her voice is pretty," Chase observed in a hushed whisper.

"Darn right it is," Spike grunted at the same volume. "Now shut up."

Spike felt Chase's pity rise within them, but Spike quashed it with annoyed anger. He wasn't looking for stupid pity, but _understanding_.

They remained that way for a time, but neither kept track of how long. Spike closed their eyes, just letting the sweet music dance within his ears. The crude interruptions of the teacher always grated on Spike's nerves, and he often wanted to get in there and yell at the instructor that he was deaf. She was perfect – she was an angel.

Whenever these flashes of irritation and defensiveness rose up within Spike, Chase's amusement was always quick to follow. Spike's irritation would then grow to encompass Chase, and Chase's amusement would further silently laugh. Once it bubbled into a soft chuckle, and Spike cut it off with a growl.

The door of a practice room opened, and it was too late when Spike realized that it was Paige's. He looked up in time for their eyes to meet, and she quickly turned and hurried out of the music area. Spike watched her hand rise to her face before she disappeared behind a corner, out of their line of sight.

Spike let their head fall, heaving a ragged sigh. "At first she was embarrassed to find me sitting here," he muttered sadly. "Then she liked it. Now… I don't know."

Chase used their left hand to quick squeeze their right to show his sympathy. Spike could already feel the ache in his chest. "You really cared about her," Chase murmured.

"Still do," they said together, their voice somewhere between. Somewhere comfortable.

"You're going to get her back," Chase continued.

Spike snorted. "It's not practical anyways. You don't care about her that much."

Chase let their lips rise into a small smirk. "Your feelings for her are so warm and strong that even I'm a little googly for her now."

"Shut up. Seriously, you're not supposed to be talking."

Chase's smirk widened a little more. "Get up and go talk to her."

"Not here in school!"

"Yeah, we've got time to kill – class doesn't start for another ten minutes."

"No, I'm not talking to her."

"Yes, you are."

"No-"

"Ye-"

"N-"

"Go!" Chase spat out.

Spike pulled their hat lower, conscious of the slight confusion of the people around them. "Shut _up_ , Chase," he breathed out of the corner of their mouth.

"Only if you go talk to her."

Spike closed their eyes with a groan. "You're just going to keep fighting me, aren't you?"

"Got that right."

Spike blew out a vexed breath and climbed to their feet. He pulled their backpack on and looked around. No one paid them any substantial attention. Strolling out of the music area, the app spotted Paige with her friends, leaning against their lockers. He set their jaw and began walking towards them.

"Davenport."

Spike stopped dead in his tracks. "Great."

A hand clamped down on their shoulder and pulled them around so that they faced Nick, who scowled at them. "What do you think you're doing?"

"Nothing," Spike said evenly, swatting the other boy's hand away.

Nick's eyebrows rose in surprise. "Spike?"

"Got a problem with that?"

His eyes narrowed. "You know I do."

Spike leaned in menacingly. " _Good_."

Nick turned red and his good fist swung at the app's face, but Spike simply knocked it away. Before Nick regained his balance for another try, a couple guys – Nick's friends – dragged him back. "You stay away from my sister, Davenport!"

Spike looked around at the many spectators who had wandered over, and he cringed to see that Paige was among them. He could feel Chase's disappointment. Licking their lips, the app whirled around and stalked off, turning into the first empty classroom he found.

"See? It's pointless," he growled, closing the door and leaning their back against it.

"You can't hope to make peace if you go around picking fights with him like that," Chase commented.

Spike slammed the back of their head against the door, and Chase's grumbled "Ow," escaped from their mouth. "I don't blame him, but I'm not going to pet him to get him to let down his hackles," Spike snapped.

"You are just a prideful thing, aren't you?"

"Yes, I am, so get over it!"

"Get over your pride, and you'll get Paige back."

"It's not that easy!"

Chase closed their mouth before Spike could go into a rant. After a long moment, he said quietly, "You need to keep your voice down. Spike, you need to accept what you've done-"

"-I have! I wasn't going to hurt her."

Chase rolled their eyes. "She didn't know that, and you scared her. The wrong idea went around, and now for all anyone knows, that's how it happened. You have to take ownership of that and make amends."

"I don't submit, especially if my sins aren't as great as people want to believe."

Chase pursed their lips. "Then no one can help you."

Spike glared into the opposite wall, and the bionic remained that way for a long, tense moment. Harsh knocking caused them to jump, startling them from their thoughts.

"Class is starting soon, and my students and I need to get in," a lady's voice cut through the door. Spike sighed and stepped away, letting them open the door and file in. He received a searching and equally dirty look from the teacher as she passed, as well as curious looks from the students, but he ignored them, slipping out of the classroom. Leo stood there waiting for them.

"I kept them from going in sooner," Leo shrugged.

Spike shook their head, and he slipped past the younger boy.

"Thanks," Chase said at Spike's pitch, and Spike narrowed their eyes. Leo smiled.

"Manners go a long way," Chase breathed as they wove down the hallway.

"Shut up."


	94. Chapter 94

Spike marched into the Davenport mansion, flopping face first into the couch without even taking off their backpack.

"Spike!" Chase complained, his voice muffled in the cushions.

Adam, Bree, and Leo had been right behind the youngest bionic, and they stopped at the edge of the couch to stare down at them. "How'd it go today, guys?" Leo asked.

Bree gestured to them. "Seeing this, it probably didn't go well."

"It wasn't as funny as I thought it would be," Adam pouted.

"Which means they probably aren't going to be shipped off to a madhouse," Leo shrugged.

Chase tried saying something, but his voice was so distorted by the cushions that the others weren't able to understand him. "What?" Adam asked. "You sound even tinier from there."

Spike's growl rumbled before it was abruptly cut off, and the bionic clumsily propped himself up. "Come on, let us just sit up, Spike," Chase whined.

Spike groaned and their head ducked down before snapping back up.

"You don't have to talk to them, but I'm trying to," Chase continued. His exasperation was all but clear.

"Fine, just talk to them," Spike grumbled, and the bionic sat up and faced the other three, who exchanged looks.

"To answer your question, it was hard," Chase said as if his bickering with Spike hadn't just happened. "I struggled to stay out of the way."

"Struggled is an understatement," Spike muttered.

"I thought you weren't going to talk to them," Chase smirked.

"Whatever, it doesn't matter," Bree cut in. "You guys made it, though. Did it work?"

"Yeah, I think it did," Chase said. Before he could say anything else, Spike cut him off with a snorted "No."

"Which is it?" Adam asked.

"I saw everything and how he handles stuff, so I think I can help him now," Chase said quickly through a mouth that contorted as if it was going to stop him.

"What did you see?" Bree asked.

Chase tried to answer, but Spike blotted out his words with grunts. Finally Chase yelped, "Ow! Spike!" as Spike dug their nails into their hand.

"Spike, let him talk," Bree commanded.

"It's between us two," Spike forced out.

"No, we're talking about this all together," Bree argued. She sat down next to the warring bionic, and Adam and Leo sat on the other side of them.

"Spike could be nicer, for one," Chase commented as fast as he could spit the words out.

"Tell us something we don't know," Leo sighed.

"I'm not some prissy little manner-fanatic, so drop it," Spike snarled.

"Spike, you're plain mean and rude," Chase said pointedly.

"I'm usually not serious about it, and the people who know me well know that it isn't," Spike replied.

"But to the people who don't?"

"I don't care about them."

Chase blew out a breath. "You handled Nick poorly this morning."

"We already went over this."

"Chase, what did you tell Spike?" Bree asked.

"That he needs to swallow his pride. With an aspirin."

Spike rolled their eyes.

"I think the first thing he needs to do is to make up with Nick," Chase continued. "Nick's at the root of most of his problems right now."

"Maybe you can start working on that tomorrow, Spike," Bree suggested.

The youngest bionic snorted.

"That was Spike," Chase clarified. "But yeah, fixing stuff with Nick will be hard, the guy's a hard-a."

"Only because I screwed up – we were actually decent friends before," Spike piped up.

"Really? I wouldn't have guessed," Chase said, his genuine surprise coloring their expression.

"That might make it a little easier, then," Leo pointed out.

Spike slouched and rubbed their face in frustration.

"Spike, what's wrong?" Chase muttered.

"You all know I won't be able to fix this. I suck at fixing things – destroying is my specialty."

"Wow, we didn't notice," Leo said sarcastically.

"I did," Adam pitched in proudly. The others rolled their eyes.

"Sarcasm, dimwit," Spike snapped.

"Oh." The oldest looked put out.

There was a brief pause in the conversation before Leo resumed it. "Spike, just go talk to the guy and apologize."

Spike barked a bitter laugh. "I hate apologizing, especially if it's for something worse than what I actually did."

"Own it, Spike," Chase reminded his alter-ego.

"I don't want to!" Spike burst out. "Sure I'm a bad person, but I'm not _that_ bad!"

The other three glanced at each other with concern and pity, and Chase sat up and pinched the bridge of their nose.

"Spike, you're not a bad person," Bree said gently.

"Yeah, the stuff you did doesn't make you bad. But your intention, that was good, so you're good," Leo added.

"Well, doing stuff like that doesn't really make you a good person, though," Adam pitched in awkwardly.

"Then what is it?" Spike asked irritably.

"You made a mistake. A bad person did it on purpose, an irresponsible person denies it, a good person admits it, and a better person does what they can to fix it," Chase said quietly. "Try to be a better person, Spike."

Silence blanketed the room, and Spike took off his hat and ran their hands through their hair.

"Why do you do that so much?" Chase asked into the air.

"This?" Spike combed their right hand through their short bangs.

"Yeah, that."

" 'Cause I feel like it."

"It's a habit, whatever," Bree interjected. "Back to what we're actually supposed to be talking about – Spike, what are you going to do about Nick?"

Spike looked around at the others before staring into his and Chase's hands. "Do I really have a choice if I'm going to fix this mess?"

"Nope," Leo said.

"Right." Spike bit their lip for a moment. "I'll just have to talk to Nick tomorrow."

"Really? I have to miss another day of being me?" Chase whined.

"Don't talk like that, Chase. It's unattractive," Spike snapped.

"You sound like a little baby," Adam mimicked in his 'tiny-Chase' voice. Spike smirked before his expression was dominated by Chase's scowl.

"Chase, you're the one who was so insistent on fixing this," Leo reminded him.

"Fine, I'll give Spike another day," Chase reluctantly conceded.

"And Thursday – the guys play rugby on Thursday afternoons," Spike added.

"No way!"

"Yes, way."

"Give him the afternoon, Chase – it's not like you haven't had _years_ to yourself," Bree sighed.

Spike and Chase cooperatively narrowed their eyes. "Fine," Chase bit out.

"Hard enough for you?" Spike spat.

"Don't push it."

"I'll push what I want because neither of us trumps the other."

"You know what? I'm getting that dumb little device and singling you guys before this argument develops any further," Bree groaned, standing up. With a _whoosh_ and a millisecond, she stood behind them with the device and pressed it to their neck. The youngest bionic writhed before collapsing into Leo, who sat to their left. Leo shoved them off and into the cushions on the other side.

After a long moment, the youngest bionic let out a protracted groan. "Ugghhhh, I hate that feeling."

"Chase?"

"Yeah." He gauchely propped himself up, swaying. "I feel so empty, so alone…."

"You were getting used to sharing with Spike," Leo smirked.

"I was." He blinked, shaking his head once. "I think I need a nap so I can recalibrate – I feel… _off-center_ , if you know what I mean."

"Nope, we don't," Adam said unceremoniously.

Chase shot him a look. "Everything's as it should be, but it's not – like everything is shifted a little to the left or something."

"Oh, so if I hold up my hand and you try to touch it, you'll miss it by a little?" Leo asked, holding up his hand in front of Chase's face. Chase scowled and swatted it away.

"No, not like that." He circled his splayed hand in front of himself. "I'm talking about _me_ – everything about me. It's just off. Kapiesh?"

"Crabby?" Bree asked with a small smile.

"Probably – Spike's emotions tend to wear off on me, and I've been subject to them for about a day now. It's a wonder he doesn't actually kill someone."

"Then go sleep, crabby-pus," Bree said with a gentle slap to his shoulder.

He stood and glared at her before turning it on his brothers. "I will. Goodnight until further notice." With that he staunchly stalked to the elevator, a clumsy swagger plaguing him on uneven steps.

"Why they put themselves through what they do never fails to amaze me," Leo remarked.

"It's just who they are – _Complicated_ is their middle name," Bree sighed.

"Really?"

Both Bree and Leo groaned. " _No_ , Adam."


	95. Chapter 95

Spike looked up in time to be handed back the test he'd taken the day before. He smirked when he saw the big, fat C plus in the left corner. When Chase had tried to help against what Spike had warned, the app had taken it upon himself to irk his alter ego by purposefully scrawling incorrect answers. Chase had not been pleased in the least, and he wouldn't be pleased to find how low his grade had turned out.

When the teacher began going through the test material and the correct answers, Spike lounged back in his seat and allowed his thoughts to run back to the day before. He and Chase had actually had few internal fights, none that were overly noticeable to their peers. The only one he really worried about was the one that took place during lunch.

 _"Hey Spike," Carter had greeted as they sat down at the circular table. The other guys shifted to make room, only casually glancing at the bionic._

 _"Hey," Spike said with a forced, small smile._

 _"Chase let you out again? If that's what happens? I don't know, I don't actually understand how it works."_

 _Spike had smirked at that. "Yeah." He lifted his milk to take a swig from it._

 _Carter hadn't been able to hide a grin. "Chase's okay, but he's super lame compared to you."_

 _Chase's reaction had caused them to choke, and Spike had hastily set down their milk to clench their fist over their mouth as he fought their watering eyes. Their chest had been wracked with little coughs and gasps._

 _"You alright?" Carter asked worriedly, slapping the bionic's back. When Spike had waved him off, the other boy smiled with a small laugh. "Was it something I said?"_

 _"No," Spike had squeaked. "Go on."_

 _"Well, anyways, he tried to impersonate you one day – that didn't work."_

 _"Yeah, you told me about it," Spike broke in quickly before Carter could continue and further upset Chase._

 _Carter gave the bionic a look before chuckling._

 _"What?"_

 _"Yeah, I've talked about it before – and now that we're over it, it's actually kind of funny."_

 _"What was so funny about it?" Chase had demanded at Spike's pitch. The app stifled his urge to scrunch their face and yell at his alter-ego._

 _Carter's expression flickered with disconcertment, but he explained, "He was just so bad at pretending to be you, and he was nowhere near competent at rugby."_

 _"No!" Chase had burst out, but Spike clamped down before anything else could be said._

 _"Spike?" Carter asked quietly, tensing._

 _Spike closed his eyes and huffed. "Sorry, I'm still struggling."_

 _"With Chase?"_

 _"You could say that."_

 _They had sat in awkward silence for a long moment._

 _"That… happens often?"_

 _"No," Spike answered brusquely. "I'm almost through it."_

 _"Right. Let me know if you need anything."_

 _"I don't need anything from you."_

 _"Right." Carter had stared into his pizza before shoving it in his mouth. Spike inwardly groaned – he was going to make Chase pay for that._

The bell dismissing class yanked Spike out of his thoughts, and seconds later he was out in the hallway slipping through the students. His eyes tracked over them, searching for one face in particular.

It was while he was pulling books from his locker that he spotted his target, and slamming his locker shut, he pursued.

"Nick!"

Spike caught up to the older boy and clamped his hand on his shoulder. Nick turned and snarled, "Get away from me."

Spike gritted his teeth and yanked Nick out of the flow, roughly steering him into the lockers. "Listen to me. I'm sorry."

"Nice try, Spike."

"No, you don't understand – I was never going to hurt her, it just looked really bad."

"Looked bad enough," Nick glowered. "You're lucky that I don't just pulverize you right here, right now." He turned to leave, but Spike held tight and slammed him back against the lockers.

"No, fine. You think whatever you want, but I want you to know that that wasn't really me – I lost control, and it won't happen again."

"Great – now let go of me and get lost."

"I need to talk to Paige."

Nick blinked. "You have _got_ to be joking."

Spike glared at him, pressing him harder.

"Not happening, Davenport," Nick growled.

"I want to apologize to her."

"I'll pass on the message."

" _No_."

The two of them stared the other down, their fury fueling them. "You really think I'm going to trust you?"

"Leave it up to Paige to decide."

Nick barked a laugh.

"I'm serious," Spike snarled. "Maybe you're too thickheaded to realize it, but you're so overprotective that she does what she can to avoid you. She hates it."

Nick's expression darkened, and he grabbed the app's shirt threateningly. "Don't tell me _anything_ about my sister."

Spike opened his mouth to push, but Chase's chiding tickled his memory, and he closed his mouth again. "Look, you and I were friends before all of this, and she and I were friends before the dance, and after the dance we were fine until that blasted night. I don't want to be the enemy of either of you."

Nick just searched him, trying to pick up trickery.

Spike sighed. "I know you think I'm a monster, but I'm not. Well, maybe I am… I don't know. What I do know is that I made a mistake, and I'm trying to fix it, okay?"

"What changed your attitude?"

"Nothing – what changed is the way I've been trying to fix it."

"What changed?"

"None of your business. So, are we good?"

Nick didn't say anything, never breaking eye-contact. Spike let go of him, and when Nick let go of the app, he stepped back. The two boys straightened themselves. Spike glared at the few onlookers who had gathered to witness a fight, and with a rumbled "Scram!" they all scurried off.

"Are we good?" the app repeated.

Nick blew out a breath through his nose. "Fine, yes. But I'm not going to trust you."

"Wouldn't expect you to," Spike shrugged. He turned and walked off to the cafeteria for lunch, leaving Nick to stand and wonder whether he'd done the right thing.

* * *

 **AN: Hey folks, how do you think that went? Will anything change?**

 **I want to say a quick "Thanks!" to the wonderful guest who helped this author's minor case of OCD by putting up the 600th review xD All of you reviews, as well as favoriters and followers, are amazing!**

 **Well, that's all I have for today - see you in Chapter 96!**


	96. Chapter 96

Spike readjusted his backpack, grabbing the bill of his hat and sliding the hat off. His other hand ruffled through his hair, attempting to fix the creases his hat had made.

The sun was blinding, ricocheting off of the white cement surrounding Mission Creek High, the bulbous yellow buses lined along the curb, and the electronic devices in the hands of the fleeing students. Perry's snarky comments still grated over the public announcement system, but no one paid them any mind.

Slipping between the buses and darting across the street, Spike took a quick pace out to the football fields. He'd been excited to play rugby all day, simply wearing his athletic clothing so that he wouldn't have to change. He'd have worn his uniform if Chase hadn't returned it. _Dang it, Chase._

The grass had just been trimmed, so as the app walked on it, it crunched and bristled under his shoes. He tapped his cleats against his knee thoughtfully, careful not to step on the draping laces. Upon arriving at the field, he dumped his backpack and dribbly water bottle on the ground and plopped himself down, pulling off his shoes and wheedling on his cleats.

He was tying his laces when Jem, Henry, and Asher arrived; the four of them only gave each other nods of acknowledgement before Spike returned his focus to his laces. Over the next ten minutes, the rest of the team trickled out to the field. Including Nick. And Trent.

When Henry called them all together, the guys glanced at each other awkwardly, shifting in discomfort. A lot of eyes were on Spike.

"What was so important about this? I told you guys that I didn't want to have anything else to do with this stupid sport," Trent complained loudly. He threw a dirty glare Spike's way, and the app returned it in full.

"I video-called Matic," Jem said, and he held up his phone.

Small exclamations raced through the group, and the team crowded around to see their Slovene friend, who looked to be sitting in a living room at a computer. He grinned at them, saying, "Hi guys!"

Some of the guys whooped their greetings, but most just returned grins to their former captain.

"I heard the end of the season did not go good, but you all are playing now?"

"We are now," Henry said, shooting a look at the group. "You want to watch us?"

"Ja!" Matic's eyes crinkled.

"Well, let's run our mini field game, then," Henry said. With that, he and Jem split apart. "I'll take Ethan," Henry started off.

"Who do you want on your team, Matic?" Jem asked.

"Spike."

With a few murmurs brushing his ears, Spike staunchly joined Jem. Matic gave him a searching look, and the app only upturned the corner of his mouth in response.

As the splitting of the team occurred, Spike was dismayed that Matic picked all of Spike's least favorite people on the team – including Nick. And Trent. He and Trent eyed each other, but Nick outright ignored him.

When the team had been entirely split, Jem gestured for them to follow him a little away from Henry's team. They circled around Jem's phone where Matic could be viewed. A man had joined Matic in the view of the camera.

"This is some of my American team, Oče," Matic threw back at the man before facing his computer again. To the team, he asked, "You still know how to play without me?"

"Nope," one of the guys said bluntly, and it was accompanied by a couple of chuckles.

Matic rolled his eyes, and to his dad, he said, "They do know how to play."

"I'm sure they do," the man replied with a grin. Addressing the camera with a teasing smile, he asked, "You took care of my son?"

"Yeah man," Noah grinned. "Coulda left him here longer and he probably wouldn't be any worse for wear."

The man laughed, clapping Matic on the shoulder. "Sounds like you have some good friends, Matic. Mi pomaga prepričati svojo mater, da se premaknete v Ameriki, tako da lahko družim z njimi." With that, Matic's dad walked out of view of the camera.

Matic rolled his eyes at that, waving off the questions of his curious teammates. "Guys, go play. I don't have all day to watch you. Do good, Dingoes!"

"Whoo! Dingoes!" Jem whooped, and the rest of Matic's team responded in kind.

"Hey! We're home, so we're Dingoes!" Henry yelled from twenty yards away.

"Not anymore!" Jem retorted. "Matic gets dibs."

There was a pause as Henry's team turned inwards to discuss. Finally, Henry raised his head again. "Fine! We're the Dingo-Eaters, then!"

"Hey!" Jem complained, and the other team broke into laughter.

"What's going on?" Matic asked from Jem's forgotten phone. Jem sheepishly brought the phone up again so that Matic wasn't looking into the grass.

"We claimed Dingo, so they became the Dingo-Eaters," Jem explained.

Matic just laughed.

Jem looked up to address the rest of the team. "Positions. Who wants what?"

"I want wing," Spike immediately said.

"Good, you didn't volunteer for fullback," Tyler commented. Spike shot him a dirty look, and Matic frowned.

"Who is fullback, then?" Jem questioned.

"I'll take it," Nick said.

"Right. Then we need a halfback, another wing, and the rest can be offense."

"I'll take my position," Tyler put in. "You be the other wing 'cause you're fast."

" 'Kay. Trent, Noah, and Ethan, you'll be offense then." Jem looked around at the guys, and they instinctively leaned in. "Let's go out there and prove that we're a team and can still play this game, ya?"

"Ya," the rest grunted.

"Let's go out there and crush Henry."

"And the others too," Ethan added.

Jem gave him a look. "Naw. I'm only concerned about crushing Henry."

The others snickered at that.

Jem turned to Nick. "When I give you this sign-" here he demonstrated, "-you're going to call 'Henryhunter'. Got it?"

Nick grinned. "What does that do?"

Jem looked around the group. "It means that we all rush and tackle Henry at the same time. He won't know what's hit him."

Laughter raced through group, drowning out Matic's splutters of playing real rugby and being decent to teammates.

"You ready, guys?" Jem asked, focusing his team again.

"Oh yeah," Noah growled with excitement.

"Dingoes on three!" Jem called. "One, two, three-"

"Dingoes!" they all bellowed. They broke apart and took their positions on their half of the half-sized field. After propping up his phone on the bench for Matic to watch, Jem joined them.

"Spike," the app heard from behind him, and he turned to face Nick. "Let's try to start being teammates again."

Spike nodded, turning forward again. He watched Henry hold the ball out in front of him, swinging his foot up to send it flying. Jem flashed the signal.

"Dingoes, Henryhunter!"


	97. Chapter 97

"Hi Chase," Leo greeted easily as he walked into the lab.

"How'd you know it was me?" the youngest bionic asked, looking up. "Spike let me out after his rugby stuff, and I was too lazy to change."

"You're bent over your homework as if your life depends on it," Leo shrugged.

Chase gave a gesture of acknowledgement before going back to his work.

Leo came to stand by him, but wrinkled his nose. "Whew – no wonder Bree went running from the lab earlier."

Chase rolled his eyes. "Yeah, I know. But I'm sore and tired, so right now I don't exactly care."

"He must have worked hard."

"It's rugby. Of course he did."

Leo was opening his mouth to say something else when Chase's phone began buzzing. Chase picked it up, but frowned when he read what it said. "Matik?"

"Matees," Leo corrected. "The 'c' is soft. That's Spike's Slovenian friend."

"Slovene," Chase said, his turn to correct. "It's a video-call."

"Well, I guess you'd better let Spike get that."

The bionic heaved a sigh. "Fine." Closing his eyes, he activated his commando app. When he opened them, he looked around with slight confusion.

"Spike?" Leo asked.

"What? Is it my turn already?"

Leo showed him his phone, which had a missed video-call notification by that time. "It's Matic."

"Oh," Spike said, his eyebrows rising in surprise. He swiped his phone and tapped the password, opening the phone app. After selecting the call button, it didn't take long for Matic to pick up on the other end. "Hey."

"Zdravo, long time no see," Matic smiled. But it fell as his eyebrows met in confusion. "Who's that?"

Spike glanced behind him to see Leo waving with a huge grin from behind him. Spike turned forwards again, rolling his eyes with a sigh of exasperation. "That would by my pansy of a brother."

"Hey!" Leo exclaimed.

Matic laughed at that. "His name… his name is… Lo?"

"Close. There's an 'e' in there," Leo said without amusement.

"Loey?"

"It's Leo!" Leo spat.

Spike stifled his smirk before turning back on the younger boy. "Scram!"

"Don't have to tell me twice – it shouldn't be that hard to get a guy's name right," Leo grumbled, stalking off.

"I'm sorry – did I make him mad?" Matic asked as Spike turned back to his phone.

"Probably. But he's usually upset about one thing or another, so it's fine."

Matic tried to frown in concern, but he couldn't keep his own smirk of amusement from his features. It fell as he squinted in confusion. "Where are you?"

"Oh, uh, my dad's an inventor. This is his lab."

"Oh. It looks cool."

Spike grunted. "So, what's up?"

"I want to talk – we have not talked for weeks."

Spike rubbed the back of his neck, quashing the guilt that rose in him. "It's been… crazy," he admitted.

"Ja," Matic nodded. "I heard…"

Spike waited, but Matic didn't continue. "Heard what?"

"Well, Jem was telling me what happened at the game, and after."

Spike ducked his head.

"It's true?"

"I made some mistakes," the app muttered to his shoes.

"Some big mistakes."

"I've been fixing it."

"Good." There was an awkward silence before Matic started again. "Why did you do those things?"

Spike shook his head, finally looking up. "I don't even know. I was mad."

"At what?"

"Everything. My siblings, you, myself. I… I lost control."

Matic nodded, looking away for a moment before saying, "I'm sorry."

"You couldn't help it."

Matic shrugged. "I could have worked something out. I really liked being in America, but I was… what's the word where you want to go home?"

"Homesick."

"Homesick. But now America feels like a home, and I'm homesick again."

"Note to self, never be a foreign exchange student," Spike said with a small smile. Matic chuckled at that.

"Slovenia really is my home. I'm happy to be home."

"Yeah," Spike grunted.

"I'm sorry."

"No you're not."

Matic huffed a small laugh, shaking his head.

More silence ensued.

Matic broke it again, asking, "Did I hear that… you became… _Chase_?"

Spike rubbed his face in irritation. "Yeah, I have dissociative identity disorder."

"What?"

"Chase is my other personality."

Matic's face scrunched as he tried to comprehend this. "Is that what that talk was about at the fire?"

"Yeah."

"You lied."

"Yes, I did. I don't like talking about it."

"I guess. I would not like talking about it too."

"The guys don't like Chase anyways."

Matic smirked. "I kind of want to meet this Chase."

Spike quickly shook his head. "No, you really don't."

"What is he like?"

"My polar opposite," Spike grimaced.

"In everything?"

"Pretty much."

"Too bad I can't meet him."

"Yup. Too bad."

Spike felt a slight breeze, and he looked to see Bree standing just off to the side, out of view of the camera.

"Eew, Chase, you're still down here and you still stink," she whined.

"I'm not Chase," Spike groaned. "Now get lost!"

Her eyebrows rose and she walked into view of the camera to see what was on the phone screen. Her face lit up. "Oh, you're talking to Matic!" She waved to him.

"Yes, now go away."

"No, I was, uh-" she glanced at the phone, "-grabbing my homework." Her eyes darted to the training equipment on the other side of the room, and Spike got the message.

"Not right now – after," he snapped.

"So what are you two talking about?" Bree asked, changing the subject.

"None of your beeswax." "We were talking about Chase."

Spike glared at Matic, and Bree grew interested. "You were? I could tell you all about him," she grinned.

"No, you won't," Spike snarled.

"I wanted to meet Chase," Matic commented.

"I think that could be arranged," Bree smirked. "He can go back and forth at will."

"Really?" Matic asked in surprise.

Spike glowered at his sister. "Back off, princess," he hissed.

"Lighten up – he's just curious. What can it hurt?" Bree prodded.

"Spike," Matic said calmly, commanding the Davenport siblings' attention. "I won't think bad about you."

Spike rolled his eyes. "That's not it."

"Then what is it?" Bree pushed.

Spike pursed his lips before setting his phone down and rubbing his eyes angrily. "Fine. He can meet Chase," he muttered.

Bree smiled, and Spike sat back out of the view of the camera that pointed to the ceiling.

"Jerk," he told her under his breath, and he closed his eyes. Focusing on deactivating, he let himself calm down.

When Chase opened his eyes, he took a moment to look around before asking, "Did Spike finish his call?"

"No, Matic wants to meet you," Bree answered with a mischievous smile.

"And Spike _complied_?"

"It was a pride issue."

"Ah. Of course."

"Matic is still on the call."

"So he heard all of this?"

"Probably."

"Oh." Chase leaned over the counter and grabbed his phone, holding it up to see the Slovene. He frowned as he studied the other boy. "You're Matic?"

"You're Chase?" Matic blinked. He looked disoriented, and Chase sighed. Typical.

"I don't know why you wanted to meet me – it just makes things awkward. Yes, this is the actual pitch of my voice; no, Spike is not the core personality – I am; no, I don't dress like Spike, or wear his hat – I'm still trying to figure out where that came from; no, I don't play rugby, or any sport, actually; yes, he calls me a wimp and a nerd, but he's a brute, so I don't care; and yes, I talk a lot. Did I cover everything?"

Matic blinked again.

"Let me guess, you like Spike better."

"You talk fast," the Slovene finally said. "And I'm just… thrown off, is that it?"

"Yes," Chase said impatiently.

"Chase – be nice. I know you don't like doing this, but you don't need to be rude," Bree scolded him.

"I'm sorry, I was… curious," Matic said.

Chase sighed. "I can respect that. You met Spike through rugby?"

"I… invited him on the team."

"Hm," Chase grunted with a nod. "Well, you got him obsessed, so now I always smell like an ape."

Matic chuckled at that, and Chase cracked a smile.

"Well, uh, I'll let you go back to talking to Spike. Nice meeting you, Matic."

"Nice to meet you, Chase," Matic replied, forcing a smile. At that, Chase set the phone down on the cyber desk again, turning to flash Bree a look of exasperation. She smirked and shook her head before gesturing that he should get on with it. Rolling his eyes before closing them, he reactivated his commando app.

"Chase is done – I'll let you and Matic talk now," Bree told the app when he opened his eyes.

Spike grunted with irritation, turning back to his phone and picking it up as the older girl left the lab. He waited for Matic to look back at his own camera. "So."

Matic stared at him for a long moment before cracking into a smile. "Chase is… interesting."

Spike shook his head with rolled eyes. "What did the wimp say?"

Matic broke into laughter at that. "He said you call him that."

" 'Cause he is one," Spike smirked. "What else?"

Matic just shook his head. "A lot. I didn't get all of it."

"He talks too much."

"Ja. And I don't think he likes me."

"He's got a stick up his butt."

"What?"

"It's an expression."

"Oh."

There was a pause, and Spike asked, "So, what do you think?"

"I like you a lot better."

"Darn right you do."


	98. Chapter 98

"Oh, Spike, you're back already!"

The app frowned, kicking the front door shut behind him as Bree scrambled to turn off the sound system that played slow, sad music. Dropping his backpack to the floor, he asked, "What were you listening to?"

"Oh, nothing, I just thought you would talk with Mr. Hoffman longer like you normally do." She clapped her hands together with an embarrassed smile.

"What's going on?"

"You're not the only one who thinks I'm a pain in the rear," she laughed. She began backing out of the couch area.

"What do you mean?"

"You said you wouldn't date me 'cause I'm a pain in the rear, remember?"

"Oh yeah," Spike smirked. "What about it?"

Now she was behind the couch and putting her weight on her hands, which rested on the back of the couch. "Um, Jason asked a different girl out today, not me."

"You thought it would be you?"

She squinted at him. "Uh, I guess."

"You wanted him to."

Now the hurt began showing through. "Yeah, I did." She walked around so that she could collapse into the cushions, holding her clenched hand to her face to fight the tears. "I guess I'm just a pain in the rear, like you said."

Spike stared at her a moment before strolling over to the sound system. He turned it back on.

"What are you doing?"

He stopped in front of her and offered her his hand. She took it, and he pulled her up easily. Offering his other, he began leading her through the steps. "I'm sorry I said those things last time. I didn't mean them."

"Do you ever mean what you say?"

"Most of the time."

"How can we tell?"

"You probably can't."

She gave him a look. "Then you'll just have to say what you mean and mean what you say."

"Like what?"

"Like telling me what I really am to you." She made her features into a bright expression.

It was his turn to give her a look. "You're a pretty good sister."

"Just pretty good? Not great? Not the best sister ever in the history of all sisters?" Bree fluttered her eyelashes with beggar's lips.

"Pretty good."

"Jerk."

"Love you too."

She stuck out her tongue. "Just for that, you're just a pretty good brother."

"Better than Chase?"

"Nope."

"Ouch."

"I love you too."

He adjusted their pace as a new song came on. "Your sister status has been degraded to 'okay'."

She rolled her eyes. "Changing the topic: Why are you dancing with me? Who paid you?"

"I wish someone had paid me," Spike chuckled before falling serious again. "I guess… I'm lonely too. I understand."

"You miss Paige."

"Congratulations, genius. Who needs super-intelligence when you're around?"

"Okay, you don't have to be nasty about it."

They slowly spun in silence for a couple songs, each lost in their own trains of thought. Bree sniffled, and when the app looked at her face again, he saw that she was trying and failing to blink back tears.

"Do you miss Owen?"

She sniffed again. "Kind of, but not really. He was nice, but I'm over him."

"How did you get over him?"

She swallowed. "Well, Adam and you – er, Chase – took me mini golfing, and we all had lunch together. They just wanted me to have fun and realize that I didn't need Owen to be happy."

He shook his head, staring into his shoes.

"You don't know how to do that with Paige, do you?"

"And I don't want to – I feel like that can't be how it ends. She was… perfect."

"Yeah, but you screwed up."

"I know," he snarled through clenched teeth. "But – but that wasn't me. I'm not usually like that. I want her to know that."

"She does, kind of, but she also can't trust you."

Spike fell silent, his face blanking with the effort to control himself.

"You have to let her go, Spike," Bree said gently.

"No, I want to get her back."

Bree pursed her lips, but she didn't say anything else on the subject. She knew she wouldn't win. She studied his features: the crease in his brow, his tense lips, the light frown he bore. All characteristics of the commando app when he was, quote unquote, relaxed. No, he wasn't relaxed – he was never relaxed. And as she studied him then and there, she realized that he was more stressed than usual – almost unhealthily so. Losing Paige had taken its toll. After another song, she picked up conversation again, hoping to turn his focus to something a little lighter. "So, you still have your friendship with Matic?"

"Yes."

"So you're not mad about last week?"

"Oh, I'm still mad. Thanks for reminding me. Let's start by degrading your sister status further to 'poor'."

"Wow. Thanks."

"You deserve it."

She just laughed. "I guess I do. But it was funny. Matic was so confused."

Spike groaned. "Remind me to make you pay for that after this."

"Eh, sorry buddy. I'll help you with most anything else, but I won't help remind you to beat me up."

"Smart. You should be the super genius around here."

"Stop it!" She slapped his arm gently, shooting him a pointed look.

He gave her a nasty grin.

"Just for that, your status of 'pretty good' just got degraded to 'poor'."

"You skipped 'okay'."

"You bet I did."

"Stop it," he mimicked.

"Oh, you want to go there? You realize how many things I could say with your voice?"

Spike grimaced. "Yes. Don't demonstrate."

"But that would be so much fun."

"Until I bash your face in."

"Ouch."

"Yeah, think about that next time you plan to make fun of me," he smirked with satisfaction.

She gave him a mischievous grin. "I'm Spike, and I _loooove_ my sister, the best sister in the whole wide world, Bree!" she crooned in his voice.

"Hey!" he complained, but she had already disappeared in a _whoosh!_ "Get back here, princess!" When only the sappy music met his battle cry, he grunted with irritation and roughly turned off the sound system. "You watch out, Bree Davenport," he grumbled to himself.


	99. Chapter 99

"Just when I thought machine-people couldn't get any weirder," dug a nasally voice.

"Ughhh," Spike and Chase groaned together, Chase flopping their arm over their face.

"Why does Big D insist on having Eddy around, anyway?" Leo sympathized.

"Wow, feeling the love," Eddy whined.

"Be nice guys, I only just got him fixed," Mr. Davenport commanded, coming to sit with the teens on the couch and handing off a bowl of popcorn to Bree. Tasha was right behind him carrying another, and she sat down next to the youngest bionic. Spike took his and Chase's arm off their face to reach over and snag a few pieces of popcorn and pop them into their mouth.

"How come it took you so long to fix him?" Bree asked.

"Because someone-" Mr. Davenport threw a glare in Leo's direction "-kept sabotaging my work."

"That little twerp," Eddy grumbled.

Leo shrugged with a self-satisfied smirk.

"How did Spike break him? It's not like I haven't been trying for years," Adam wondered aloud, missing a look from the billionaire.

"Wow, I am _so_ glad to be back. Donnie, make them be nice to me!"

Mr. Davenport sighed. "I'm not going to tell you how he broke Eddy because it'll clearly give you guys bad ideas."

"I broke into his control box and destroyed the wires, the circuit board, and pretty much everything else," Spike shrugged. He leered at Mr. Davenport's pointed glower.

"Oooh! I've just been pulling out the cords all these years," Adam realized.

"Donnieeeee!" Eddy cried out.

"If any of you touch Eddy's box again, you will forget what it's like to not be grounded!" the mogul threatened.

"Let's stop being unreasonable and just start the movie, sweetie," Tasha said, laying a hand on her husband's shoulder.

"Unreasonable?! I tell you what, you overgrown monster she-bear-"

"Eddy!" Mr. Davenport shouted.

Eddy stopped his rant, taking on a sulky look.

"Okay, we need to vote on a movie," Tasha said after her death stare at the home security system. "Which do you guys want to watch? _Captain America: The Winter Soldier_ or _Star Wars: The Empire Strikes Back_?"

"You picked those?" Mr. Davenport asked her in surprise.

"No, the kids did," she rolled her eyes. "Anyways, who wants _Winter Soldier_?" The boys raised their hands. "And who wants _Star Wars_?" Bree, Mr. Davenport, and the youngest bionic raised their hands.

"You can't vote twice," Bree said.

"Spike wants _Winter Soldier_ , and I want _Star Wars_ , so yes, we can," Chase retorted.

"Oh yeah, I guess," Bree relented.

"It's up to you, Mom," Leo said before grabbing a handful of popcorn and shoving it into his mouth.

"I don't really want to watch either of them," Tasha grimaced.

"The choice is clear – all _Winter Soldier_ is, is a bunch of fighting," Chase began.

"No!" Spike interjected.

"But that's what you like about it," Chase pointed out.

"Of course. But at least it's not cheesy and full of aliens."

" _Star Wars_ is a classic!" Chase argued.

"Guys, stop fighting," Bree sighed.

"Do you guys ever get along?" Leo asked.

"Only when we're not out at the same time," Spike grumbled.

"Not even then," Chase corrected.

"Then how do you two even agree on who gets to be out?" Bree asked.

"Surprisingly, that's actually pretty easy," Chase shrugged. "We just take turns – most of the time."

"How come you're out more, then?" Adam asked. "I mean, I'm not complaining – I can't do Bionic Brother Toss with Spike."

Chase and Spike worked together to shoot a glower at the older boy. "Maybe I don't want to be out so much," Spike snarled.

"Why not?" Tasha asked with concern.

Spike shrugged. "School's boring, and rugby's over."

"What about your friends?" Bree asked.

"That's honestly the only thing he looks forward to," Chase answered for his alter-ego.

"Not us?" Leo gasped in offense.

"Nope," Spike smirked, but his amusement quickly disappeared again. Bree picked up on this. It had been a while since the make-up dance with Spike, but she had a feeling that he still struggled with his feelings for Paige. As far as she knew, he still hadn't worked up the courage to talk to her.

"Well, hopefully tonight changes your mind about that," Mr. Davenport said, getting up to set up the movie.

"Too late – Eddy already ruined it," Spike muttered.

"Good," Eddy said nastily.

"Knock it off, you two," Mr. Davenport pinched the bridge of his nose. He went back to his task when he paused. "So what are we actually watching tonight?"

"We're split, so Mom is the deciding vote," Leo recapped.

"I don't know what to choose – I don't like either of them! Why can't you guys pick something nice, like _Finding Nemo_?"

"That's a kid's movie," Bree drawled.

"Correction – you are never too old for _Nemo_ ," Leo put in.

"I still like it," Adam added.

"Should we just watch that?" Tasha asked.

"No!" Bree, Mr. Davenport, and the youngest bionic all argued.

"Mmm, I think I have to agree with them, though," Leo said sheepishly.

Adam shrugged, saying, "Me too, I guess."

Tasha rolled her eyes. "You guys! I don't know what to choose."

"You could choose _Star Wars_ – it's old enough to be more your style," Spike said snidely at Chase's pitch. The youngest bionic's features took on Chase's horror at that statement.

Tasha gave them an offended look that melted into her death stare. "Just for that, mister, we're watching _Winter Soldier_."

"Wait, no, Tasha, that wasn't me! That was Spike making it sound like me!" Chase pleaded.

"What is it going to be, honey?" Mr. Davenport asked.

"I already said it was going to be _Winter Soldier_ ," Tasha sniffed. The mogul nodded and put the disc in.

Chase made their expression into a pout, and he grumbled, "Way to go, Spike." At that, the youngest bionic began to shake with Spike's rumbling laughter.

"So weird," Bree commented, shaking her head.

"You're the one who begged for a full-family movie night," Spike retorted.

"And it's not like we asked for this," Chase added.

"Would you guys ever consider letting Spike have his own body?" Leo asked.

"Not possible – technically and biologically," Chase answered abruptly.

"And if we're talking about giving Spike his own body, why can't we just kick out Chase? Then Chase could have his own body," Spike said bitingly.

"No!" Chase objected.

"Exactly."

"I wasn't fighting with you."

"Well, you are now."

"Oh, my gosh, you two are _so_ annoying!" Bree groaned.

"He started it," Chase grumbled.

"Can we just start the movie already?" Adam asked pitifully. The rest of the family peered at him for a moment.

"I agree with Adam," Bree said. "No more of all of… this."

"Yeah, so stop talking, Chase," Spike smirked.

"Shut up!" Bree exclaimed. "Someone just hit 'play' already."

"Alright, alright," Mr. Davenport chuckled, complying.

"Thank you."

"We can still bicker during the movie," Spike murmured a minute later.

"You'd better not, or you will be in so many pieces that you two will need more personality to put them back together," she growled.

The youngest bionic's eyebrows rose. "Sheesh," Spike muttered.

"Dually noted," Chase added. With that, the Marvel™ logo flickered into the silence broken only by the crackling of munched popcorn.

* * *

 **AN: Hey peeps. So, if I did my job well, you should have (sort of, kind of, maybe) felt a little slow down. Maybe not, though, because I was struggling to end this. Well, since you probably don't totally see it coming (even I was a little caught off guard, and I _wrote_ it), I'll give you a heads up: next chapter is the last one of this story.**

 ***cue varied responses of a number of different emotions* You probably have a few questions, if anything...**

 **Lady Cougar-Trombone, you congratulated me on almost 100 chapters, and the funny thing is, I actually landed on 100 exactly. Thanks for all the support through all 98 chapters so far! A similar "Thanks!" goes out to everyone who has followed, favorited, or reviewed this story!**

 **Anyways, look for that last chapter, Chapter 100!**


	100. Chapter 100

" _We're just two lost souls swimming in a fish bowl, year after year._

" _Running over the same old ground._

" _What have we found? The same old fears._

" _Wish you were here._ "

Spike closed his eyes as the Pink Floyd lyrics wavered in the air. Nick's and Paige's watery voices died softly, Nick's strumming sinking into silence soon after. The people gathered around choked on small sobs, and even the app was stricken.

The twins rose from their seats to join their mother and younger sisters at the freshly-dug grave, the grieving family hugging each other closely. The others gathered began to trickle away, leaving them to mourn a father and husband in private.

Spike ducked his head and slowly followed after the others. He couldn't imagine what the family was going through. Three and a half months ago, she had almost broken down just talking about the illness. Now… Stepping behind a building out of sight, he looked up into the pale sky. _I can't… I'm done. Chase, your turn._

* * *

Paige stared out into the melancholy sea, her frizzy curls quivering about her brow in the gentle breeze. The saltiness it carried coated her tongue.

Soft crunching alerted her to the presence of a person walking up behind her from the cemetery, but she didn't bother to turn and face whoever it was. If it was her aunt Frieda one more time…

The figure stopped beside her, remaining silent. Paige continued to gaze at the gray waters, waiting for the person to speak, but only the sound of the crashing waves touched her ears.

It was curiosity that finally drove her to see who stood beside her, and she flinched at who it was, her eyes never leaving him.

Sighing, he turned to face her, meeting her pressing stare. Glancing down at his shoes, he mumbled softly, "I'm sorry about your dad."

"Thanks… Chase," she said uncomfortably. It still felt so strange to hear this higher-pitched, so terribly wrong voice coming from… _him_. She looked away, chewing her lip. "Why are you here?"

"Your dad died," Chase replied simply. "I wanted to say that I was sorry."

"You don't even know me," she replied, a little harsher than she had intended. She didn't care though – she was just glad that her voice didn't tremble.

Chase hesitated. "No… but Spike does."

A burning rose up in Paige's throat. "I have to go," she said quickly in a husky voice, turning to leave. But Chase caught her arm, stopping her.

"Spike needs to talk to you," Chase said. "He should've before now, but he didn't know how. Now I'm making him." He met her eyes, letting go of her. She turned to face him and frowned warily.

"Is that okay?" Chase asked in a quiet voice.

Paige sucked in a breath, nodding twice and crossing her arms against her chest. Keeping her eyes locked on the youngest bionic's, she watched his eyes lose focus and then refocus, the boy blinking a couple of times and looking around in confusion. When he realized who stood before him, he averted his gaze.

 _That was weird,_ Paige shuddered. Aloud, she tentatively asked, "…Spike?"

He pursed his lips, meeting her stare. "Paige, I…." He shook his head.

Tears welled up in her eyes – that voice, that voice she had missed for so long. And the look in those eyes, the way he held himself – he was back.

Before she knew what had come over her, she was squeezing him tightly, her tears falling freely. Spike was surprised by this, but he didn't hesitate in wrapping his arms around her. "I'm so sorry," he whispered.

After a long moment, she let go and stepped back, sniffling, "You'd better be."

He closed his eyes. "I'm sorry about the way I've acted – I would never hurt you, and I'm sorry I scared you. And I'm really sorry about your dad."

"That's a lot of 'sorry's," Paige chuckled, wiping away the moisture around her eyes. The app could see that the mirth wasn't genuine.

"I mean every one of them," Spike replied in a soft voice. "I… I should have tried to talk to you before."

"No, I'm glad you didn't," Paige said. "I wasn't ready, and I still don't know if I am now."

"You just hugged me," Spike smiled.

She took a shaky breath. "That's the problem. Do you know how conflicted I am? And, and-"

"I know." He sat down, patting the ground next to him. After a moment, she sunk down, carefully straightening her black dress. They both sat in silence for a time, listening to the crashes of time that hid in the crashing waves. Fresh tears trickled from Paige's eyes.

Spike wrapped his arm around her, and she flinched. "What are you doing?"

"You're dad died… I, well…" Spike let his arm down, shrugging as he refused to make eye contact.

"Oh. Thanks."

"I'm sorry."

Silence enfolded them again.

"Your song was beautiful," Spike murmured.

"I wish my dad could have heard it."

"He probably did."

She looked at him, and he tried to give her a small, comforting smile. They looked back at the ocean again.

"Don't you wish you could just escape sometimes?"

"Yes," Paige whispered.

He looked at her, and when she met his eyes, he continued. "What if we could just get away? We'll run away, and we'll live the life we want."

Paige looked at him sadly, gently shaking her head. "No, Spike. Not with you."

His breath caught, and he felt sickness creep into his stomach. Gulping, he pleaded, "Please Paige, that was all an accident, I'm not like that, I promise!"

She squeezed her eyes shut. "How can I trust you now? No, nothing more than friends, and maybe it's best if we're not even that."

Spike felt as if there wasn't enough oxygen anymore. "Please, Paige, no."

"I'm sorry, Spike," she said shakily, standing up.

"Will you ever give me a chance again?"

She stayed as she was a moment, clenching the fabric of her dress. "Spike, my family's moving soon. My mom can't find a job here, and we can't pay for our house anymore. My grandma in Tennessee is going to take us in."

The app's throat tightened, and he looked down, nodding.

He was surprised when she knelt down in front of him. "Spike, you're a good guy, but nothing about us was meant to be," Paige choked. They stared at each other for a long moment before she embraced him, and he hugged her back. One last time.

Watching her walk away, the app let out a shaky breath, and he had to blink back the tears that threatened. Watching her walk away, he wondered if there was anything left for him.

 _No, there is,_ he logically told himself, and he knew that he was right. But he still couldn't help the feeling of emptiness.

 _Everyone thinks that an Artificial Intelligence can't feel, but right now, I'm feeling too much to feel anything. They are wrong. I was wrong._ He closed his eyes, and a tear squeezed out onto his cheek.

 _What would they think if they knew? What would_ she _think if she knew?_

 _Would they say that I was a monster?_

 _Maybe._

 _It wouldn't change anything anyways._

 _But I'm not just a monster._ He opened his eyes to see Paige melt back in with her family, gripping her mother tightly. _She saw something in me. I don't know what I am without her._

 _Without anyone._

 _No, that's not true,_ a small voice prodded.

 _I_ do _know what I am._

 _I am a man of a monster._

* * *

 **AN: And that... that... *sniff***

 **That is the end.**

 **Bye folks!**

 **Just kidding; an epilogue will be posted on my profile (because I can't bring myself to ruin this perfect number of chapters) in a week, and I still have stuff to say. A lot, because you all mean a lot to me :')**

 **Thank you to everyone who followed/favorited this story - you all rock! A special thanks to Anonlabratslover, Brentinator, catlover2976, camamalope sorandomz** **,** **ceeceerocks2000, CrazyBade, Created to Write, daphrose, Dirtkid123, ease,** **EverythinAndAnythinAndNothin, fs440 (named guest), GladerTributeCamper, Guest45 (named guest), LabRatFlutieKat, LabRatsFan07 (named guest), Lab Rats Squad, Lady Cougar-Trombone, Layla (named guest), LivingforJesus, LovelyInspiration, Makenzie Wolf, musewars, PurpleNicole531, Retro70sGirl, Sapphire (named guest), Saphire (same named guest?), Shades of X, Spring Bonnie Bunny, Stardust16, That one person (named guest), ThePhoenixPrincess, The Queen of Night, This one (named guest), vampiregal007, and any and all guests (unspecifically named) for reviewing!**

 **Every review was so meaningful - especially the rant-type ones, I must admit! The longest review was from either LovelyInspiration or PurpleNicole531 - you both had so many amazing things to say! I love all of my readers, and each review made me smile, even if not all of them were super positive; they have made me a better author, every single one. Thank you :D**

 **And a special shout-out goes to Lady Cougar-Trombone and PurpleNicole531 (when she's caught up) for reviewing all 100 chapters (Brentinator, you missed Chapter 64, and Dirtkid123, you missed Chapters 89 and 90)! Now that's a feat - thanks for sticking with me all the way through and sharing your thoughts every step of the way! You four (yes, I'll include you, Brentinator and Dirtkid123) are the bomb :D**

 **Of course, I do have to throw out a special "THANK YOU!" to my proofreader, Goose, who put up with my bugging, ranting, brainstorming, and insecure outbursts. Oh, and for catching most of the technical errors, too. So if you want to give a round of applause to anyone, give it to this Goose that you don't really know but should be very appreciative of ;D**

 **So yeah, last story, last post for a long time...? Forever? Gosh guys, I just don't know. I don't want to leave, but I really gotta chase after my dream. Maybe you'll see this username pop back from time to time, maybe you'll read this older, (hopefully) wiser voice in the future...**

 **I'll miss you guys. So much. Really.**

 **Don't be afraid to PM me, I will try to respond when I can.**

 **I'll really miss y'all.**

 **I thank God for this wonderful experience: for blessing me with the gift for writing and giving me the opportunity to share my work - I give it all to Him - and of course, for blessing me with the opportunity to meet such amazing people as yourselves and become not only partners-in-crime but friends with many of you. You guys make this fandom so special, and it really is like no other. Thank you, thank you so much for being absolutely wonderful people. God bless you all!**

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 **Asori out.**


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